Pickle of MeA Poem by R.E.K.We are all pickles deep downThis pickle of me All her words and Creeping things Lay floating In midnight wanderings She'll sour any day This pickle of me Is pickling And I've barely any room For beside me Is humanity Fermenting in their gloom
© 2019 R.E.K. |
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Added on January 13, 2019 Last Updated on January 13, 2019 |