Incompetence

Learn more about other poetry terms

Nobody thought the man could win, that King of Broken Things, but he showed his vulgar mind and gave our demons darker wings.   America knew this man was evil just not to which degree,
Yesterday the wind blew Fourthousand Sixhundred and Fourty Five   In a cardboard box We lie awake With our eyes sowed shut By strings that hang from above   Like puppets we lie
Subscribe to Incompetence