Millions of us wrote a Story...
They thought they could burn us all?
Don't they know what...
Location: Gobbler's Knob in Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania. First held on February 2, 1887 prognosticating how...
I hit blunt the twice. Then i start to recognize. My hands fading away. I wonder if im still alive. Live...
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Cutthroat tatics. Needing money is automatic. Release verses in a packet. And keep jacking. Stack cash and...
Tears falling down into my hands Turning into rivers of blood as I stand Weeping as I walk...
It's amazing that people want it like this?
Would the ability for differences not be a good thing...
looking at open pages listed in names they came and took my father shut him
...
The poet’s heart bleeds, then melts like white snow--he can feel it-- together with hundreds...
A friend is what I need I'm so tired of only seeing me Talking louder and louder, so I can...
Despite being an amateur paperback writer wannabe, whose storied protagonist stars...
I helped to build the QMC, Yes —- little old me!
I calculated right when I put those cranes...
(any relationship between the following poem and living persons - namely the writer of these words...
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If you take the Test...
They shape shift. And put bullets in your interior. Always on the hunt. Gun laws inferior. Silence all the...
Your friends are wanting to help the Non Citizens who commit Murder and not help you after all the...
I stand able, eager, & ready to jump impossible mission to swallow lump muscles primed...
Embrace versions of the game for sell. Its for the clientele. Laceing my weapon with shells. Demons can...