Let me drink my misery,
observing this obscene poetic moment...

In this part of our story,
you bounce from one end...

I wish you could be
the voice under my voice...

"why do we have to march?" he asked me.
"to honour our country." i answered...

Ladies and gentlemen,
here she comes...

She knows who rules here
as her wrist is pressed without care...

I hope you talk in poems,
touching my insides with...

He raped grammar;
misspelling life...

These fragile walls built between us
were made of dark fire and shame...

You said the only man i have ever loved
was robert smith...

Her poetry squeaks:
it is hate...

Chaos dressed in yellow and green,
rising to evil as we look at each other...