Bags Grow on Trees.

Saturday, May 2, 2009

People need to stop being so fucking optimistic.

I live, you cry.
I lie, rumors hurt.
I abuse, punches bruise.
I scratch, rocks tear.
I tangle, vines choke.
I posion, venom cease.
I engulf, seas drown.
I shoot, guns suffer.
I fight, wars bleed.
You kill, humans die.

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Howls