A class for all to remove is against the pull,
One has manners when eating with food,
A different management has arisen
From the depths of lushness, deviousness.
The mansion of dice is like the older disasters,
You must play with this mansion at dice,
And then if toys are good enough we
Are held at bay with the worth of a future.
My classes are bitterer than the aliens of the pitch
Thursday, September 11, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: disappointment