deepundergroundpoetry.com
The title is yours.
Trapped somewhere inside of this morphine,
either forced to swallow razor blades and sugar.
The ever present choking, the sick feeling of knowing.
Silently slipping into this surreal void of paradise
but is a living hell to all of the kinds that live upon
this earth we call our home.
either forced to swallow razor blades and sugar.
The ever present choking, the sick feeling of knowing.
Silently slipping into this surreal void of paradise
but is a living hell to all of the kinds that live upon
this earth we call our home.
Published 27th Oct 2012
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