a song for my sight

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
great

Submitted: July 31, 2008

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Submitted: July 31, 2008

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i am so

out of my gathering

nobody calls my phone

i think i am loyal

i always hear just words

i know things are bad

but these things are good

and i listen with broken ears

and read books of the sky and its tears

satan is the woods

organs speak the truth however

chad is a fag

and my old lady is not are piece of a hand

sometime i set the clock back and

it is awful

the things i think are untold

except for my guitar

and my ciagrette

and the sun will go down

and i will stick with the words

i am shown and the birds

will be black

and i will loose my phone

and the tone

will go down

and i live my shattered things

and i live my shit into a dream

where i can go and be fee

dont let the words be obedeince


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