6x6
6x6
6 x 6 on my way
to 6 feet down...
I live in a tent on the sidewalk,
near main and 7th.
Just down the street there are courthouses.
That is where they dispense the law.
They tell people what is right and what is wrong,
and how to follow along.
Yet the story does not end
but bends around and twists back.
The summer of love gone wrong.
It is an old song, sung by trolls,
that live in high towers,
and eat well.
None can spell or even read,
but they do know how to feed.
Votes for better times,
eaten up by slimes,
that live in the garden
turned to a desert,
but not a dessert for any.
Just a penny,
in the can to buy beans
again.
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