Did you know trouble lurks in extreme segments? A gifted prodigy
wordly unknown to most; neglected. The symbol is legitimate, the excuse is barred. A good night's sleep diverted -- problems unresolved, sins left unveiled to God.
Afraid of a pindrop, you stagger -- isolated from life, you become your
own. Wine can be bought with an impotent man so easily -- keen, usually subdued in neurotic behavior. A plea, a prank, an occasional fuck!
I hate you!
Used in an amused dilemma.
You caution the warmth of an outstretched hand
Eyes seem closing in on you.
Laughter, the main sense of hope.
Damn the media, rely on instinct.
Does it really make sense?
Does shit smear your face?
I smell trouble . . .
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