Poems from lynsey.knapp.7
What will I do with these lines, these limericks, these rhymes
Who will care when I die, I'm just playing with time
Children care naught...
The cat in the cradle got your tongue with a silver spoon
curiosity killed the little boy blue
And coughed up the fable that put the man...
I journey into the thread work of my mind; untying the knots, mending the frays, and brightening the faded dye. The snip of scissors my...
Pushing and pulling life's delicate threads.
The puppeteers marionette resembles a long lost friend.
This default programming installs...
She reeks of perfume- her own special blend of piss and gunshot wounds.
How she turns her nose up and spits in your face.
She wears her...