Tuesday, August 26, 2008

True Dat, bitches (An ode to hopelessness)

I was born two legs. With ability, I stood.
Practice, soon, they became hungry chopsticks.
You might catch me before the bullet hits the air,
hopeless.
I believe in pessimism.

Should you wait, sound meets the ear
yet again, hopeless.
There are many beliefs,
also, romance.

Lines are full, so unbelievably full.

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