Walking down, a clean slate I passed
Across and saw the devil crying heaps
And laughs and laughs were all he was tossed
As hysteric as his manners could weep.
As the clumps of people stranded away
From show that done was being wrapped
And the foy of misfortune, carried long delay
Due the stars which makes us feel trapped.
"Poor men" claimed he "They're all laughing at
My lungs scraped bare 'O the shivers,
For the time they'll write Ode to the wet
By the burns in the order of all sinners".
"My pains mortal, how could you know well?
For I have no space for even me in my hell".
YOU ARE READING
A Quarrel in the Brain Park
PoetryJust some poems I wrote, at different points of my life. Hope you relate to them at some point. Also to remember, it's a collection of poems so there are many genres. See if you'll like either of them.
