Friday, March 14, 2014


This is your power. This is your prose.
This is the slip up left under your nose.
Your dollar was ripped, but concisely folded.
The stench of your breach was most certainly noted.

This is your minute. This is your time.
This is second you lost your mind.
Your mother was shocked, so abrasively so.
She couldn't escape disappointments foothold.


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