Catherine wheel three.
Second I am to nowt nor man,with knowledge and insight to make decisions I can.
A puppet a pet a poet I have been shoveling dirt trying to see what is clean one against one is a clean fight but one against two just aint right especially when one who's side you thought was on turns out to be fueling a loaded gun, firing bullets of fire and pulling rugs. my arse my elbow which is which my words my ...life nearly thrown in a ditch for what I ask mistakes in another life,no an indesicive puppet mistress afraid to cut strings with a clean knife
A puppet a pet a poet I have been shoveling dirt trying to see what is clean one against one is a clean fight but one against two just aint right especially when one who's side you thought was on turns out to be fueling a loaded gun, firing bullets of fire and pulling rugs. my arse my elbow which is which my words my ...life nearly thrown in a ditch for what I ask mistakes in another life,no an indesicive puppet mistress afraid to cut strings with a clean knife
Builder of destruction a wrecking ball, this weak mix of morter won't hold a relationship up at all.
Plaster over the cracks to not get a quick sale ,scrape away the gloss so you cannot see your tall tales.standing at the pullpit the king of nothing I am ,but hurt quiet rage imprisonment when I can.Half the foundation was mind damaged and flawed bodged to look good, a facade of cleverness inpressing with carved bits of wood .But eventually the rot shows its ugly face ,then its time to remove it and put something new and fundamentally sound in its decrepid place.
Plaster over the cracks to not get a quick sale ,scrape away the gloss so you cannot see your tall tales.standing at the pullpit the king of nothing I am ,but hurt quiet rage imprisonment when I can.Half the foundation was mind damaged and flawed bodged to look good, a facade of cleverness inpressing with carved bits of wood .But eventually the rot shows its ugly face ,then its time to remove it and put something new and fundamentally sound in its decrepid place.
What a tangled web we weave with trap doors at every turn, heat in the kitchen you can't stand as your fingers burn, cowboys eye's watching your life ,your every move, squeezing and squeezing the sows ear to make you return, to the orra, the chaos the calm before the bomb blast,hold on to your helmet and dig your trench fast,for this war will continue as long as you are convinced to let it last.
