keenetic dr.
mold
Poetry dies, and love with it; Politics is a game, addicted, Unrestricted. My words accumulate Lacking spirit to deprecate And assimilate. Them that's got the story cry on deaf ears; Them that's got the moves mold the spheres; She fears. Are you blinded by friend and foe? Your poetry, have you let go? Staccato?
oh humanity
2018. 3. 13. 11:09