The beauty queen grasped my heart again, she's squezing it's, gently but firmly.
In this vice yours turely now sit, stand and breath.
-Chinese masters comes between us,
talks in Haiku's, plastic venus.-
Atlas crumbled when I realize that time with her is slipping away fro me.
What ever happened to this. I can't concentrate my frined. It's dancing tube-socks around my head. And the sourmilk is running down my face and hair. Where am I again. Am I living the dream like people with narcoplecy?
Is this to the days that I never lived?
To the revolution that never came?
To the drinks that made me puke?
To the dreams I never understood?
To the cat that never loved me?
To the mother I could never comfort?
To the father I could never confind in?
To my sister I never binded with?
And to the brother that died?
But I'm still breathing.....
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