We are dirty.. we are filthy, we are purebred disgrace.. Inside and outside we are all the same.
What's the difference when you are buried six feet under ground?
Is your skull or your body made out of diamond?
YOU ARE READING
Shrooms Grew Out Of Your Words
PoetryShort Written Portions Of A Wonderfully Hurt Mind. Words and thoughts of a 16 year old boy, who's feelings change as each poem is written.
