This seems like fun. What do you all think?
Pen, I ship you with everyone.
are we living in a world of make believe
finding ourselves void
of even a spark of reality
surviving on cast off’s
remnants of other’s dreams
Upon my breast
sleeps the pages of
a smooth thick novel
spending the night with
a passionate story in
Your skin pages
the concept of a “Freudian Slip” just doesn’t make any sex to me at all
When one holds so little,
And values their life as dirt,
You don’t know how much they’d sacrifice,
To spare others from their hurt.
My blood has no value to me,
I’d gladly loose a pint or four,
To spare the ones I love from their pain,
I’d do that and everything more.
Because I hold few near to me,
But I value them more than oxygen,
But I hardly can help as much as I want,
Much to my sacrificial chagrin.