From birth to death and further onAs we were born and introduced into this world,We had a gift hard to express by wordAnd somewhere in our continuous road,It kind of lost it sense and turned.There was...
When I die I hope it may be said:'Her suffering was black, but her books were read'.
Fezzik's in trouble, bubble bubble,His brain is just not in the pink,His mind is rubble, rub-a-dub double, Because everyone needs him to think.
Cheap little rhymesA cheap little tuneAre sometimes as dangerousAs a sliver of the moon.
No more rhymes now I mean it!Anybody want a peanut? AAHH!
I do have a funny perception of mine I'd like to share. Being basically a lifetime poet. I've had many people say "I don't like poetry" But they'll listen to song after song that rhymes on the end in...