deepundergroundpoetry.com

Big backyards don’t always bring happiness

The birds in the attic have been chirping louder
can’t seem to add enough salt to satisfy my taste
and the headlights aren’t cutting through the fog anymore
fuck this rinse and repeat lifestyle
being led by my cock
I’ve left my natural element
sitting on this rock smiling for the pic’s
waiting on my keeper to leave the gate open so I can maul a nigga
Suburbia
a place where bath salts are soaked in and not sniffed
suicide awareness is seen on TV and not taught by your dead fucking neighbor
the only bitches walking the street has another on a leash
I don’t fit in here
give me back the sound of sirens
the smell of weed and urine
and the thrill of playing hide go seek with the landlord
Written by Dirtfarm
Published
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