Poems from Lipinski
Driven towards a cliff filled with the knowledge of thoughts
only
whose were those given?
A seven year old child knows so as if they...
Lit at the end, a glowing ember
Smoke rising, faggots piled as time flows
United States slumbering as they embrace the coolness of Chinese...
Smooth red with a tart of sweet
Thought about cream, whipped into a dream
Pondering aloud with a question...
What came first, the sweetness...
Everyone is a poet. Each and every one. However, imagine if a chicken could write a poem...
Maybe it would read and sound like this?
***
...
Simple really, the question to borrow the car keys from the mother or father
Same as taking a soul out for a spin
Whoopee!
Squalling and...