Feet, little rectangular shapes that move. Weird looking huh? Just there, moving everywhere. WOAH that rhymed. *Currently Beatboxing*
Thats so Random its the futur I can see.
So my fellow peers, why do I have to fall, scrape myself and do it all again. I Know it hurts but I fall anyway. Damn it clumsy stop falling you idiot.
Don't worry I'll probably go back to the weird things I write.
Just a little sweetness to your bitter.( or confusion)
YOU ARE READING
Wasteland
PoetryThings you'd throw in the garbage. In a wasteland. To rip until death. And that's okay.
