It's not the perfection in which
this piece was written, it's the musician...
Let us be strangers tonight;
two hungry pigeons gathering...
Romancing about three empty verses,
that warpaint every piece of me...
. sometimes it was love,
sometimes it was hate...
I've come to the conclusion I'm wasting
ink like I'm misusing my time...
Club contest, had to write about...
If I could fly to the star-freckled sky
on a bitter winter's night, I'd graze the moon...
The Dock reigns strong and calm,
The Sea, in turn, falls to the authoritative...
I want to poetize the grim faces
I've been pressed upon...
Sometimes I ensconce
myself on the palm of raw...
Women like us do not settle,
we know how to give huge amounts...
The sun's rays are panting
like dry tongues...