I wrote this a while back for a project... |
It's killing me for lack of a better word.The sustain upon your face, well it speaks volumes.If it's alright with you, I'm about to come unglued.Where we go from here, it's up to me now.Calling the sh...
Posted by Dey on Mon, 15 Oct 2007 11:08:00 PST |
Inadmissible |
I'll laugh at your words and I'll spit in your face.Know when to open my mouth, know how to describe the taste.And you're bitter. Bitter. Bitter.While callous and indulged.You call me a sinner. Sinner...
Posted by Dey on Mon, 03 Sep 2007 11:11:00 PST |
August 17, 1930 |
Happy Birthday Poppy,
Today you turned seventy-seven years old. And the pain is so deep I feel I can touch it, hold it, and break it apart in my hands. I know you're looking down on me now saying, "Ba...
Posted by Dey on Sat, 18 Aug 2007 08:16:00 PST |
Meet Suburbia |
This town is old and tired from the fake baked, and the dumbfounded. The lights are strained and barren. These people secretly misbehaven. This town is alone. Afraid of the houses ingested, the people...
Posted by Dey on Tue, 24 Jul 2007 08:08:00 PST |
My world |
At 3:00 yesterday morning, my poppy passed away. I could never put into words the pain that I feel, the tears that I've cried. He was my world, a father to me. The first and last man that I ever ...
Posted by Dey on Sun, 17 Jun 2007 02:14:00 PST |
