Thanks For the Words, Md
It’s six dimensions, seventeen senses
The body of my text posess extra caring for death sentences
Set your alarm, cause’ it’s to late for you to adjust
The streets are too loud for crying, for help or for dazzling lust
It’s to dangerous to speak, to feel, to dream
A five minute doom from a hell’s judge and you’re no longer free
You wanna know how to stay alive?
Well, you better learn how to combine
It’s pure mathematics, not that simple, but sometimes too much easy
After all, this equation it’s already wheezy
I can assure you that no man’s poison you’ll keep you from decipher
Otherwise, pray to not get killed in the web driver viper
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.
