poetry

Let down the wall, try not to use a piano, you'll amaze yourself. Take care to keep them straight; whilst not easy it's within reach. Run mobile discos, but it's pointless my guru told me. All you need is cash and the girls like it, I never realised it would become a cliché. Some of them have bits of me, evidently the line to use next time. Rubbing away the planets and playing rhythm guitar, the 90's were a good idea. Fantasies of eyes on stalks and by coincidence we rode a scooter. Ah we...

_A poem written completely in predictive text_ Fancied damaged boy any box or coy Cox kiss lips as they lisp. Awake, cycle, be late and laud Kate. Wall walk, tall talk, the next newt goes for God's loud love by Jove. The tie vies for kid's lies, lids off with odd Ned picking and shaking his sibling in the lame land lane. If he goes in, I'm gone home, good. Gas has, ice had, water waves and rates save. Jesus jests while pests rests. For eons the doors shut in situ, waiting, waving their due...