four days of hell for a few blinks of an eye you know what your dad said is true no good deed goes unpunished lets call you argentina your little farm house with its spiral steps theres no blue bluer than 9pm 5 miles away from the bare beaut die happy die vibrating pilsner in hand a bra and hair tie growl baby on dirt roads all up in smoke
Cipher | VIII.I |
My Week in a Poem | August, Week 1
