Weeping Willow Poem by Thomas Kane

Fallen Gongs my Thong is song
A little boy I play the Kyo reds eye
Like a cat I go and fro back attack
Nothing mouses or houses lack

Back dusty slides my door tonight
Sand floods my room and switch
Whips crack light swings s quick s
No oiled lamp burns death black!

My God I cry out why have you! !
Forsaken me with a hard lot stiff
My neck proof the Jew got me
David why root hysteria here

Nostalgia said so and now it is
A good man once and no more
Fooked sway and gabby grims
My old demon finds a solid end.