fortyA Chapter by ((Teenage_Poet_Loser))Words flow like water down a river My mind a source of incapable innocence Littered, ruined, polluted Hate is just another excuse for living World of ideas The chair I sat on burned with liquor The smell of rotten beer Lie on the ground with old piss Along the route of hell The guide is burnt Laughter is the way the life the stallion Horses run down the river of rejuvenation But life is transitory © 2011 ((Teenage_Poet_Loser)) |
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