Supp Poem by Polby Saves

Supp

Rating: 3.8


Moving, riding, dysthmically along
I semi-smiled at a girl on each block
Everytime we were made to stop
The attractive ones
The same broken clock
Giving the correct time twice
Once daily, again in the dark morning for twenty years
Christ
Sorry, no you don't qualify
I lied about the smile.


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Polby Saves

Polby Saves

Fifth Circle of Hell (sullenness)
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