When would your time
come Mr. Ape who born to die?
You smoke the sky.
You moan and sigh.
As mummy you had better hide
in place where all forgotten treasures lie.
But you embarrass world by blind
making your mind
Too wide.
For why?
Aren't you late before to start?
Should you have win apart your part
that you have lost while you're had shout.
And screams run echo cross the web:
Don't trust 'em!
I'm worth much more than rotten egg!
O, well you're not...
You simple drag
yourself flag to the barricade
breathing as bot.
But there is not in first time being.
You know this deeper than I can.
And fife made of the sugar cane
Won't ever give you every thing.
Mr. Ape
© Copyright: Сордес Пилозус, 2013
Свидетельство о публикации №113030901915
Свидетельство о публикации №113030901915
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