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I used to be creative, / I used to write what I feel. / Now I have no character, / I have no feelin sign in to read more »
Singing along to the blissful melody of jazz rebels / as I inhale red paint from the dripping wet brush of employment, / the eye of heaven looks down on me / sizzling on a winter afternoon barefoot in contempt. / / Alone in my world / I would sneak a dance or two before / the shades of darkness are drawn sign in to read more »
She covers tears of pain I lutrous smiles / Endured in fear of past grief / Where love does not lover her. / / She dreams of a lover of class / Arrests her thorn woven heart in serenity / Melts his heavanly smooth lips of bliss / To retire betwee her breats / But he turned right when she turned left. sign in to read more »