From thoughts that screams of agony and pain, till the hurt can no longer been seen within my eyes due to the fact, you're all cried out till there is nothing eles left to cry from the eyes. For as this desperation seems to crawl into your mind digging into the brain like death worms on a feeding frenzy, you await with anticipation of what is yet to come but yet through the eyes. There you can see a gleamer of hope as it slowly appears within the mist of a morning dew across the beach, someone walking through the mist that is...
Written with precision her poetry is far from prison - no yearning masses camped in homes suffering horribly executed poems forced to endure the badly grammered hammered with needless words buffering while under house arrest; slammered Incarcerated in unpoetic hells Jailed birds in private cells praying to be liberated on an aptly dated day The 5th of November! Remember! Remember! Remember her name
(Originally in Write a Poem involving the Breasts comp.)
That guy who said I've got 'small tits' When he was drunk out of his wits, Causing mother dear to have fits (I'd invited her to the Brits) - I'd knee him in the dangly bits Or blacken his eyes with my mitts! Hope girl he was with gives him nits!