Main Life
These crimes are committed by disarrangement,
the follow of the clue lies on the piece of her-
hallowing entertainment,
she is egalitarian,
she is fly,
but the needle goes high,
blind like pie,
imploding like lines...
The loaded sounds disrupt-
permeating throughout the club-
swinging at love,
it gets floated enough,
I shoot it in stuff,
but buff for buff-
I'm beatin' it,
lucky dove.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
