A poem, of sorts.
Mar. 26th, 2003 03:24 pmI keep my conscience locked in a cage inside my head.
It tells me to kill people.
But I'm not
ready
to
die
just so
the world can be
as fucked up as it ever was
with millions of people cursing my name.
It tells me to kill people.
But I'm not
ready
to
die
just so
the world can be
as fucked up as it ever was
with millions of people cursing my name.