Friday, November 7, 2008

Nothing ever came of what was cried





When there my body was covered with enough dirt to fill an empty grave.
for every tear of water from a shower a beer was drank.
Every other breath breathed was that of a cigarette.
the things I saw were, well...

well, no one likes listening. Ill just keep my mouth closed.
In a weird way, makes me feel like my father. god bless him.

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