The white trash temple

The sun sets so far away,
Sharpen your knuckles my friends
Cold and alone
That's how poetry is born
And our shadow is never far away
He counts the hairs on our heads
One, two, three
One, two, three
A screw in the flesh
Is worth three in the crucifix.
What masicist painted the smiles on the cold grins of our skulls?
Nevermind
Bump it.

Reviews

[...]

Oh, I hate giving critiques but you have a typo, love. It is spelled masochist not masicist. Other than that, I loved the title and the concept was great. "A screw in the flesh is worth three in the crucifix"...great line. Keep it up!

[TomQuick]

I just realized I need some line breaks for dramatic tension...