SiX 8 seVen
My day is not filled with empty, i take my break, my area of silence, the reaper of fake - The V to violence, i am the pestilance for resistance - No element with the fulfillment to a cause - Why act, when you never experienced the lies to the fact, of lies, who pushed pause - Do i bribe the bride, white to be alive, forever the truth to a lie - If i sell you the deed to heaven, the number an eight, who wants to buy - the dice rolled for a six, just to hit seven
poem by Unic Cjonr
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
