ShatteredA Poem by Karl Woof Junior
I dare not speak as I or mine,
For I prayed for someone to verse with me and just got a pushy and egomaniac Mule in my mind. I have dollars, linen, bed and bread, But waiting for Coney Island Cyclone to crack my skull and leave me anywhere, just dead. The mule tells me not yet, Meaningless aspirations and beautiful recollections, forgetful but only to forget. Tears with smiles; nothing like a Vet returning, He states they're of his dialect, they see psychotic, Mule says contemplating. To pity or destroy, One thing we share, identical twins, twisted mirror is our toy.
© 2013 Karl Woof JuniorReviews
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3 Reviews Added on July 26, 2013 Last Updated on July 29, 2013 Author
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