i can't take two steps without tripping over myself
and if i take another fall i'll be hurting my health
there's a kit in my backpack to prevent this
with a p***k from the needle, we go into bliss
the muffled sounds of the people walking by
the blinking lights and the tunnels of white
i'm slipping under your gentle subtle spell
and letting you lift me from my personal hell
now i need a little bit of you more and more each day
to help ease my nerves and to help me stay awake
this reality seems to drift from my own sanity
and it all starts with just a little bit of charity
(to end the subject quote) my ex wife's crabs
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My writings and poems
I don't think i'm a good writer. I don't even think I'm good at anything, and if you want to waste your time reading these so called 'poems' go right ahead. I'm just sorry they're not as great as I would like them to be.
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