Braden's Poetry

I crossed into the blanket
And fell onto this: a volume of junk
The pen was connected to my fingers
And the mattress had her scent
There was only two reasons
It's plane to see for everyone involved
There's a whole new way to do it
And everyone should try it
I endorse every pleasure and sin
So don't let your daughter own a car
It's dangerous to just exist
When so many demons haunt so many men
And Evil Women (Satan) continue to thrive
Becometh of men's unsatiable desires
And when all satisfaction is met
War will begin a new drama for all
There's nothing left to preserve
Just volumes upon volumes of junk
It had to be delt with sooner or later
Future generations can soak up the blood
If the pen would only reset
I could sleep ina normal way
With feline insanity
And a forgotten about past
I live like a dead man walking

[The Clinic] [Page 1 of 98 Poetry] [Page 3 of 98 Poetry] [97 Poetry]
[99 Poetry] [99 Poetry] [Archives Home]