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17th May 2004, 02:15 AM
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#1 (permalink) |
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Senior Member
Join Date: Jun 2002
Location: Gone.
Posts: 2,537
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Modern Art
Slapping on kohl,
Whilst selling off your only soul. Through scratching off your very character, You can't predict what comes thereafter. Sizing on down, In your wishes you begin to drown. The bones are there for all to see, And a rib is exposed with melancholy. Flicking through it, Feeling your dreams begin to split. And while jealous glares observe the page, You're feeling lost in your larger cage. But no one is a work of art, So why try to sculpt someone else? Last edited by Flaming Toilet Bag : 17th May 2004 at 02:20 AM. |
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