On my way over I stopped to write-in my composition book. I had to search to find a blank page. I was looking at the hits on my blogger page and I see some are from an unknown region. Do you suppose the Martians or watching me? I don't know what to believe anymore I'm just going to go back up on the stupid roof.
My face isn't carved in a mountain. I've never been struck by lightning. I've never saved a crying baby from a burning house fire nor have I over come my misfortunes in life to acquire a name for myself. I consider myself a writer although all I've written is only pieces of torn limbs of my distraught existence. (a bunch of poems)
Contact Form
Thursday, August 30, 2018
My latest composition book is titled if it bleeds it leads
I'm at work right now working on a roof in Loch Erin Michigan.
On my way over I stopped to write-in my composition book. I had to search to find a blank page. I was looking at the hits on my blogger page and I see some are from an unknown region. Do you suppose the Martians or watching me? I don't know what to believe anymore I'm just going to go back up on the stupid roof.
On my way over I stopped to write-in my composition book. I had to search to find a blank page. I was looking at the hits on my blogger page and I see some are from an unknown region. Do you suppose the Martians or watching me? I don't know what to believe anymore I'm just going to go back up on the stupid roof.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.