Blake Holland Poet Rhyme

Previously Seven Lovers

I met Queen Jane
while laying out buckets of rain.
In Spain,
South of Heaven and West of Hell
I sit in this seashell,
thinking of life 
without the pain of a knife.

I was drunk,
on Maggie's Farm
I heard that ringing fire alarm
in my head.
People were singing songs of the dead.

Let the Illuminati
take my body
to the ground.
My life has the same old sound.

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