October 2015


His manner’s ordinary In plain sight’s where he hides Part of an unknown order Of men known as Bromides He’ll lull you to a snooze He’ll ease you to a slumber As yawns turn into snores The mood he will encumber He’ll draw you in at first A masterful pretender Well

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Your love is like a vulture That keeps tearing my soul Not content ’til it’s devoured And I’m left with just a hole Where my heart was So long ago Your love is like a weapon Firing shots into the dark Never mind the people dropping Your transfixed upon the

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