The red button to the doomsay device
 
don't go there where you're already holding
sorries in advance
try to test that not like this
a chance has passed you by
I held a fistful of words to touch and deny and explode
it hit where it could hurt, not I
and then to cry like that
a fact of broken eyes that collide
it was that mischief maker
a fickle finger of boredom attached to
a body of dissatisfaction
It loaded the gun for fun
and words employed were done
and then the trigger was happy to be oppressed
I found the button to test then press and press
and then the rest was done
I'm sorry for I have sinned
a confession that you can't win
and a countdown to 10 then off till 3 2 1
its done I won
I think you stopped beating, not I
I think we're done
 
by eternalslacker
Hosted by www.Geocities.ws

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