Ha Ha
Ha ha
Though I know no limit to my untold head story that will unfold
my lifted non gifted cold depression state that I use to hold...
I mold my own statues...crafting them with my hands....
I stand my stands....I now comprehend my understands....
blaming no one...taking the heat...I am a son of a mother that is 8 years 6 feet deep...I no longer weep my missings for this misses...
though I pray for her ending prayers with kisses...
dug my self in a hole with a pole...but dug out in fractions to be whole...
30 years in the making...I crook took my taking....fixed my mistaking....
cause there is no end...I am now my own friend....I no longer pretend...
all of which made me who I am...
I am me again....Ha ha
By: Peter T. DeSpirito
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