Whimpers Poem by BalSage Vost
Whimpers
It is to be 4: 20, and my hand quivers at th sight i have commited and shall forever know
i can taste the trouble on my lips, and with a failed swipe must remember
the red and the blue will come not to far from now, have made my vice into a foe
ashamed of the neccesary evil i did, i am not, but still i quiver
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
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4/23/2024 1:49:45 AM # 1.0.0.1119
