Who and what, why and where, whatever the fuck. Poetry, or mind vomit. Atoms and buckshot. We are what we are.
Sunday, March 3, 2013
Midnight mover
always have been
can you dig it
i knew that you could
when i'm gone
i'm gone
i'm so gone
you can hate me from a distance
a long one
some won't forget me
some will
I won't forget
I will regret
I ever played football
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