Street air makes me bloody high
I'm bleeding verses so dry
I ain't gonna fucking lie
I'm enjoying poet's life
So what if I am never read
So what if muses leave me dead
My rhyme is like the cheapest wine
It rolls on tongue and always found
But lies will never get me far
So here's truth - it's open scar
That bleeds and breeds like common slut
And gives a whole lot of fucks
A happy poet is dead
So struggle is akin to bread
Yet fine line must be set
Between indifference and hate
Poet s life
© Copyright: Львов Лев, 2021
Свидетельство о публикации №121072502269
Свидетельство о публикации №121072502269
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