 |
So your actions speak louder than words.
But no matter how much good that you do your stumble shall betray you.
So when you spit, spit real high i..
|
|
As onlookers, the survivors
Stare upon that grotesque and retched scene
Viewing all the cold, blue children
And the trees from which they swing.
..
|
 |
clickel clackal.
The sound of stars being born and dying
The sound of the universe surviving
The sound of a ball in a compressed can
Being shaken ..
|
 |
Her daddy left her
Never saw her glowing face
Heard his woman was pregnant
Packed his s**t and left that place.
There was no love in that relati..
|
|
incomplete
|
 |
[center]The noise on the battle field ended just as the fog lifts from the ground every morning,
hand in hand with the sun.
In the silence we stood,..
|
|
This piece is on the chopping block right now, as I am debating on which pieces to use in my demo album. Please read and critique. Thank you.
|
|
I stood.
Still, quiet...alone.
It was a clear evening.
It was far too clear.
For the screaming of mothers and their children and drunken hollers o..
|
|
He sits, self-righteous there, upon his tall chair.
His high horse with sulfur scent and charred hair.
He sits, self-righteous there, upon his tall ..
|
2
next  last 
|
|
first
prev
Profile
Writing
Friends
Share This