I feel like blood gaining Haem.
Like shark in floods writing poems.
Leave’s free, rare cord making brain.
Their trees in cloud gathers rain.
By a wingless deaf bat.
Fall sick; loose a breath.
Yet we are made of blood.
Is to wash the dirty flag…!
Heaven is up towards the sky?
And a bringer of death?
But great minds and holy Bible?
Has the devil been misjudged?
Forgive me because I am not you.
Even the sprug; still gets it wrong.
Inside which; is a holy pug.
Sweet and sour, with so many chugs.
Perhaps pluck almogs with jug.
Sweet mistake in kissing frogs.
My pride, hands on my chest!
Happy birthday, to you daddy.
Why do people still love smart?
We love smart and that’s the fact.