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Eighty four
Poetry needs to be written
Even when you don't shake spears
And your heart is so heavy
You barely carry it through the year
Thoughts birds will peck at your liver
Come like nightmares in fever
Plastic gross in the grocery
Artificial faces of the walking dead
Eighty four, was I taught all it falsely?
Four is five, fool is here, fool is fed
© All Rights Reserved
Even when you don't shake spears
And your heart is so heavy
You barely carry it through the year
Thoughts birds will peck at your liver
Come like nightmares in fever
Plastic gross in the grocery
Artificial faces of the walking dead
Eighty four, was I taught all it falsely?
Four is five, fool is here, fool is fed
© All Rights Reserved
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