Thursday, June 23, 2011

Random Musing

When you walk,
can you sway your hips,
Parting refined lips,
To the sweet scent of roses.

The crosses,
Of the star struck lies,
In the fields of flies,
Where once your heart did occupy,
Now the fiends choose to lie.

You are rotting,
Bulbous growth,
You are stinking,
sour note.

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