deepundergroundpoetry.com
brain surgery
I am a figment of my own imagination,
stuck in a fucking clot of annoyances that dance on my soul, and celebrate tormenting me,
I will away wealth and then regret it,
I welcome poor because it's simple.
I wake up every day and trust that good will overcome and keep me steady
stuck in a fucking clot of annoyances that dance on my soul, and celebrate tormenting me,
I will away wealth and then regret it,
I welcome poor because it's simple.
I wake up every day and trust that good will overcome and keep me steady
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