Dis is ma original poem. Not plagirised.

I walk through the fields of the cow grazing pasture,
I feel the north winds brush gently across my scalp,
The warmth of the evening sunset hugs my sensitive skin,
As I hear the faint swish of grandpa's windmill,
I begin to escape into my head,
A land of happiness and freedom,
Where I can be alone and forget the stresses of life,
I slowly take a drag of the *****,
And the feeling sinks deeper into the back of my head,
I am locked into a trance and the reggae spirit guides me.

Jah feel it

is it cool not being allowed to read
plagirised face covered in men's rooms
and when your swallowed the millions
as jennifer connely, irish poetry owes you strokes
of my own egodeath and the males boying body
your grace?

the job as journalist stills the ****** incompetence of your skirts hike

the weeding out and ******* of the shallowest ends of the gene pool
try beneath tha surface and pummel essays for the next last 5 years of dead hello kitty's