friday's cool, end of skool quarter past three, time for me
to get out of this shithole.
Getting home, longing to roam friday night time to fight
and get out of this shithole.
life was good swinging on, see saws and margerie dors.
11 comes and its bad bad bad talk.














Comments
Seem to be in poetic mood, aren't u? Oh, and Well done for the poem ytd. Deep. ^__^
Keep up and take care
--
AN ART ISN'T MY LIFE
MY LIFE IS THE ART
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