Its Perhaps...the Foundation-or-Ground... Sounds-shakin-the-Mounds,.. of Dirt When Earth's Stake-is-in-Bound... Proud of Hatred-and-Clowned, for Satanist-Work... Breakin-the-Earth, Devoid of All fluid that's Makin-it-Work... Slated-in-Dirt, Patience-is-Found... For Some the Fakeness-can-Shroud, Around The Moon and the Most of Vacant-of-Towns... I'm Flagrant-with-Doubt, Fallin Upon Deaf Ears when Precision-is-urged... it's Handicapped,For Even Blind People the Vision-is-Blurred... The Missin-Concern, For this Pistol-or-Knife... fuck Weapons, Im Fistin-the-Eyes, Anytime I'm Fitted-to-Fight... I Look to the Picture-inside... to Further-the-Force... I Feel it's Right, to Nurture-the-Torch, of ya Life then Murder-the-Corpse... The Server-is-Poor, And the Burden-is-Formed... As A Murderous Chore, Tasked upon Hell's Hands with the Turn-of-the-Fork... Seldom-Pitched-in, is the Heaven in Hells-Kitchen... And An Earthquake isnt Felt until the Shelve's-Shifted... the Sun It selve's Conflicted, As Ice is Heated and the melt-Quickens... I Felt-Friction, upon Myself, until I Dealt-Disses... To Seizure-Addiction, the First Step To Dealin-with-Death... i Need You to Fill in the Rest, When the Fake Are only Stealin-the-Best... Concealin-the-Treach, is the Answer-and-form... Of life, Celestial body Where the Homosapien Libra-is-Born... the Bullet Re-entered the barrel where Brandon-was-Torn... and Panic-is-Formed, But The Mannechans-Warmth, is only Felt by the Bannished-and-Mourned... the Hand-isnt-Warned, by Wrist Slaps-and-Kicks... The Masochist, Loves Perhaps-the-Risk, or Slack Passed-on-His... the Release-and-Capture...

Of A Seasoned-Actor, Has been seen as a Deceiving-Factor... As Life Liquid's Poured-in-the-Tube, of Chloroform-Juice... I Envision Horrid-Abuse, As Test Beacons are the Poorest-Excuse... Of Exploring-the-Youth, Or Exploiting-the-Use... Of Annoyance-and-Truth, And you seem unnoticed until Death is Pointing-at-you... Adjoining-is-Two, Hips and Setted on... the Pedistal to Vent-a-Song...As the Storm-enlargens... The Poor-is-Bargained, With Saucy Soups and a Warm-Apartment... As rich People Are Sortin-Garbage, And Level Store-Departments... I Ignore-the-Hearted, For Efforts Are Morgued-in-Arson...









That had a lot of emotion if you read it....its mainly about my best friends death. Post some feedback