The dehydrated working class poet. Not afraid to admit I'm wrong. Just hard being wrong for so long.
Sunday, 17 September 2023
Aniexty
Past lives,
Stranger then fiction.
A work in progress,
A stranger in the street,
A face lost in the crowd,
A firm handshake and a kiss goodbye,
It's not too late.
And here comes the awkward moment.
Another round,
What about shots?
A nervous foot,
A even more nervous heart.
I like dancein on tables and gettin drunk, drunk enought to fall and stumble, to know im lost and feel its ok to mumble. time takes to long so im tryin to express how i feel. but the question is always there is any of this real?
No comments:
Post a Comment