Boil, Cook, Fried, and Baked
form
in to inflate
soon as my
arm release
the grip from the plate
my pen prolonged
to my heart
have faith
again
i'm the start
and end of a trace
bounce ockward
counts in dark with
sheeps in my dream
boil cause i was
strip of my fate
cooked. cause i was well
over black
baked because when you hurt me i just
stood there and sat
fried cause my skin
is puffy
from all the crabs
i ate
which i'm allergic too.
ain't that crap
Copyright © Frederick Smith | Year Posted 2005
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