The damn days,
When I feel the fatal of the knives,
When I feel it like forays,
Like I have been thrown in beehives,
Then I have the derays,
Because I kept it all in the archives,
Everyone enjoying in bays,
While my heart gladly starves,
They enjoy every angle of the rays,
Am always watching from the wharves,
Am a forlorn cause am decreipt,I accept.
You thought he would wiz,
But again you were wrong,
Silenced by the bees,
You fell as if his words strong,
Nothing was in you to please.
Looked like a dumbcell,
No u aint,cause his hair Acer,
Karma fly him to hell,
Cause it's the Pacer,
YOU ARE READING
SUICIDAL THOUGHTS
Poetry(ironically and delusional) it's about a beast(she) caged in a cage. tied to the walls, tortured by its own demons to pay all the inequties it has ever committed. To much pressure, to much fire, they let it burn watching. While breaking up in their...
