| Mike�s Kiss Sweaty hands grip As steely nerves slip Hot lights, heated glares The things we endure to climb golden stairs The pressing crowd roars As panic and strain soars Shaking and shivering Not wanting to be there Slowly soaking in the malevolent stares Eyes drift close as I heed the sorrowful moans Of the souls that need a new home The souls that need a new mold The souls that need to be told.. Cold steel I slowly lift From the dull noise there is a sudden shift As I began to accept The mikes kiss. |
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