0
"Poetry everyone! The boy fancies himself as a artist.......How can you have your pudding if you don't eat your meat?"


drink , drank, drinkin', drunk,

as if i could mend the things i've done,
the webs i've spun

the rumors i've spred,
the lies i've fed

the love i've rejected,
and the hate i've infected.
VIEW 4 of 4 COMMENTS
jena:
what are you doing?
vinylkiller:
Moving out of central
Somebody knows me well
Says she'll spill the whole story
She may be lying I can't tell

Meet me inside
I'll keep my head to the floor
And one hand on the handle
Of the mad/sane door

Here am I, more roche five than pain
Here am I, just me and my walls to blame
Here am I, I really don't feel quite sane
Here am I, still searching for my shadow in vain
Lock my door I only think in black and white
I'll even try to look ashamed