Caffeine, from a shadow born in the pot
Nine minutes old, that moves the clock
Measured in beans of insomnia
In the porcelain cup until the last drop
But the stains of a ghost remain
Drunk as the tongue of philosophy
Weighted down in theology
With a confession of addiction
Wearing glass slippers of a circus
Disolved in sugar of litany
Caffeine, from a shadow born in the pot
Rated for Everyone
Shadow Born In The Pot
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Summary:
Insomnia
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Nice I like this.
Thank you Lizz.