"peching" poems
He wore a figleaf and called it the finest cloth under his eye the scales of hopelessness lies He just got a job as a mere labourer in the current government project and his braging about wealth and paper his baby has no mother and the clothes of yesterday are now mosquito coat or insect peching place yet the hope to live well is still alive inside me oh this tale is wrong about the tears from a teenage father
Feb 23, 2015
Feb 23, 2015 at 4:33 AM UTC
He wore a figleaf and called it the finest cloth under his eye the scales of hopelessness lies He just got a job as a mere labourer in the current government project and his braging about wealth and paper his baby has no mother and the clothes of yesterday are now mosquito coat or insect peching place yet the hope to live well is still alive inside me oh this tale is wrong about the tears from a teenage father
Feb 23, 2015
Feb 23, 2015 at 4:34 AM UTC