Bio by Self XX

They quarter-toned their deliverance
agenda based and ill conceived
in a quiet corner there was always eyes
looking at me smiling
the quiet ones were wise.

I perched myself on ill things
that smacked my ass enough
for me to learn pain has a purpose.

In the end I was still learning me
you were still trying to convince me
that what you knew was true.

It's a gold rush dream towards heaven
but, most of what matters here is blue.




This poem is about: 
Our world


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