& the youngest oldest mans heyday
would have been when he went & dyed his hair grey.
A funeral to bring me back down to earth
Flem sticks to the back of my throat
If only knowledge stuck to me in such a way.
A negative can only exist with a positive
Make a wonderful painting
an appology to a friend i threw a knife at
my fingers crossed and wraped in cellatape.
© Copyright 2016 dormy blount. All rights reserved.
Poem / Other
Poem / Horror
Poem / Poetry
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