soup of the day.
Late night, Tonight..
On edge, despite the whimsic reach of delight
Stands Still.. Mouth Open..
Hands drew out.. Awaiting attention, as would a cubscout
in honor of troops or anonymous groups..
A Gang is A Gang when support is a Bang Theory
and i hang for an
adapts to the nuisance of crumb colored
Aloof is the Defense and
SPOOF will attack
the marine of accomplice is covered in crack
spoon is a clock and it's a quarter past noon
I'm alone with a sock puppet handling rocket science
and misery stole my best kitchen appliance
The Soup of the Day is DISASTER
it's served cold
and please dont clench up and pucker
or call me a tease
but say still
'God Bless You'
..if im on a breeze
a characteristic unfled
and still say 'God Bless You'
if i shot a breeze
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem