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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Historical Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
is about bread dude

Submitted: September 09, 2009

A A A | A A A

Submitted: September 09, 2009




Iff eye had a concrete plan it has failed to solidify.
Unless myself did have a brick in hand it hardened not.
Back when I had the solid rock it fell away eye kept it not.
When the solid of life has come it slims to none.
After we have ate the bread it softens some.
Batty Bake Batty bake in the pan.
During the discourse of the entire impediment of life the ingredients the very DNA were missing links.
Cold slabs of hardened steel under softer blankets wool.
Sustenance is never found in jail.
Bread fries on angel wings of grace in the hot Deseret sun. When the bread fries the angel singes with his wings. When the bread fries the angel sings about the bread and gives. Bread is life a single dollar bill given in haste and torn in half life is not the dollar given then but bread found scrounged fallen from the angel's wings into mye dumpsters then no dollar amount written in the till we meet again. What is expert knowledge but someone's intuitive folly why does it have to be book learned to be a hit. Most good ideas come unbidden to the poets feast his fest turned smitten to the dollar sign. Mye bread will fry.

© Copyright 2018 Charlax. All rights reserved.

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