I’ve known 1,000 crooks
read 10,000 books
still like my whiskey with sour
took 500 aims
at my 5,000,000 blames
as I sit all alone at the fire
my hands are now cold
but my heart is still bold
waiting on some newfound desire
if I don’t think quick
i just might miss
my opportunity to fuck up the flowers
it’s been 700 months
i met 31 monks
not one of them had a thing to say
i poured 20,000 baths
to clean one shiny ass
won’t you give it a kiss today
now my hands are pickled
and it’s so hard to explain
being fickle the name of the game
i think I’ll swing first
just the way it’s rehearsed
you may ask why I do it this way
it’s my ability to fuck up the flowers
ALWAYS! Those GOD DAMN FLOWERS!
Rated for Mature(17+)
Categories:
PoetryThe Flowers
Bookmark
Summary:
The beautiful things we will crumble to dust.
Copyright @ All rights reserved







Clever!
Be you. Too many posers out there.
20,000 baths to get one shiny ass…I bet it was well worth the pickling being that fickle 😉
Yes! Thank you, Adira,
Bat
Cleverly penned, Bat. Incredible read my friend. Appreciate you.
Damian
Got a good rap feel
Drumbeat stuff
I’ll make you a drink
Mixing bourbon and rye
Kissing cousins some say
That’s trouble for sure
Fun never got started without some devil drink
Man
BIG LIKE BAT
Tahnks Poet. Hope all is well