Thoughtless Mornings, by Loneliness is condescending
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Every morning when I wake
I’m greeted by bright shapes
Pleasure met deep inside with every breath I take
Pulling me past the ageing bowl of grapes
A tense growing
With anticipation sleep is lost
Great knowing
To you it is the cost
A joyous shriek, a clattering of speed Followed in a
splashing
Every morning it’s all it takes
With a ceremonious thrashing
To eat a bowl of Fruity Flakes
This is to you Gran with much love |
Posted: 2005-09-29 03:35:03 UTC |
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2005-10-01 02:29:30 | ill haven |
nice use of words |