The bad man mentions his misdeed

some words….

 

The bad man mentions his misdeed

and need to retreat

from the life that he led

thread bare

outlook labeled as nothing was cared for

but

looking for a starting point

where he can begin this race

his face that was seemingly lost

his waste of time

seems ever present now

even though he wants to return to the past

for one last blast the time has officially reached a null and void

to that idea flying

featured girls give him ideas

he’s reached a hypothesis

that he will never be able to reach these honeys

or reach the pot of honey

or the pot of gold

or Pandora’s box

that infinitely unfolds

into mystery’s sisters

of threads of fate

whispering quietly

that you don’t make your decision

neither do we pay attention

the kings and vagrants

there opinions

can offer similar weighted currency

The old gold spilled

the platinum credit card maxed

the loan of his soul

never going to  be repaid

in the first moment

the blood was spilled

on the dotted line

the spilled wine

the whining pauper

the bitch who looked Cyndi lauper

who can give dome proper

and give other gifts

that keep on giving

the kids who keep on winning

and their poor stupid brothers

and worried mothers

and stupid hateful mother fuckers

who step in fuck up the balance

which is new

like kicks

and the beat that I rock to bits

the point of rocking advance verbiage

with hidden intentions

when people give less of a shit

a tad bit diuretic with pens

I leave bad taste in idiots ear holes and eye sockets

I stroll through paradox dimension

without putting my sense on a pedestal

I stand one footed like a crane on a totem pole

I stand before a cross

frozen

 

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