Another poem, "Though I may be blind, I don't need brail to read you:"

Though I may be blind, I don't need brail to read you: (Yes it is a long poem title.)
I tenderly ignore my wondrous whores, but I’d sell my petty soul just for yours. I am but a man who’s only slept with a woman or slightly four. I’ve dreamt of ponds and fountains. I’ve flown through the dead grassy meadows, and hollow mountains.

Let’s be honest; you are but a penny, two faced like many, and worthless. Unfortunately I am but a lost cause, your own felony.

Behold the mighty God, inhale his scriptures. Too bad I conform to such devilish frauds, because I am a contributor to hells newspaper.

I am but a king, of addicting rotten things. I watch the women blossom, for my chance to toss them.

Though my lines may be fake, blinded and lame. My pencil strides continuously out; my ex’s are to blame. Look at me; I’ve spent my years giving men a bad name.

So make your amends, before the linear end for the fallen men. While Adam was reveling, Eve was quenching. “Devour more power.” With a bite she spoke, with a swallow she croaked, “We’ve been the murderers since the beginning. “

Though God may be smothered in all glory, he lacks linear, and we are flattered by death, and all holy breath drenched pioneers.

We climb out of wombs, and crawl into graves. We’d prefer to save the sick and greedy rather than the virgin brave.
We are flawed, we are insane. Just look at me, I am the inquiry of pain. Yes, this is I-encouraging the world to burn me down. For I lie, and tell them I don’t care how they turn out. I open my ears to hear them exclaim, and shout. I unzip my lips, a used up empty dried up spout.

Let’s be frank, I do not lay myself in might. I am simply far too deranged to hold on tight, so I let myself go to dangle. And you all portray such horizontal halos above your heads, yet you hold on tight and howl in bed, you bite their necks and scar their backs with nails of black, such impeccable shallow angels.

Behold the flocks of girls painted in scarlet white; kiss their lips goodbye into the tarnished night. Too bad I fall to their tainted thighs, without a question why; my face is deep beneath the gap in space of the lonely vector in hells newspaper.-RGP