Wednesday, April 27, 2011

On the spot poetry.

Left alone.
LSS on the move.
Random thoughts that flutter by,
drinking coke in the middle of the night.
Fantasy became the root of existence,
truth meld with lies.
Reality became the basis of an illusion,
Rainbows run with their colors left behind.





I don't even think,
I make the slightest sense to anyone else
but me.

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