hello every one, this is now my me place i suppose
oh my me and little prose
we dance and sing in little rows
a slant rhyme here and no one knows
ha i say with little stance
passed unknown
not a glance
so to end this poem
ill blurt a groan
and welcome myself
to my new home
Insight!
- The Treacherous Tilt Towards a Tepid Trend
- If thought process is a concept of an interstellar being, than this is my brains heaven. Where old thoughts go when they die, but only if they're good.
the things that define us come and go and nothing stays the same, so here's my release of passing moments. the things that make us, yet are never spoken. good day world.
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