EVERY NIGHT I SPIT A BIT
writing words across the mindsince I can't remember
but still every night
the best poetry ever
is yet to be written
and discussed to its limits
the unconscious talking brain
speeds the wills into force
variety cruising mode
does it all to the megaphone
burning laps into dust
we’re okay and laughing
to kill society at last
no danger to come
dealing sober at light
no front at all
we would all get it done
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theme by: restlessness
