Wednesday, February 21, 2007

woot.

bandanas of red cover their hair
in an attempt to hide the truth.
pianos pounding include the vagueness
of the message herein.
this wet chair of filth is cracked
ice dropping into the valley of wood;
purple leaves of majesty cover the crap
that could only be conveyed.
i will let you down,
i will make you hurt.
covered in steel and cash
the obvious truth wisps by your head,
into the gutter of the mind.

1 comment:

nodecaf said...

The "I will..." lines kind of come out of no where. I might have more to say later, i'm pretty tired now.