Poems from spencmcintyre
see theres this thing
this feeling
that eats
and eats
and eats away at my brain
and i feel guilty and cruel
and wrong
because thats what...
The world turns its back
But the stars still shine
When did we start hating
All of man kind
Wrong kind of skin
Wrong kind of mind
Wrong...
she silently stares at the monsters under her bed
chin resting on the knees she has pulled to her chest,
eyes as empty as the rhythmic...
crumbling walls in a deteriorated village
the sentiment builds by the minute
and every minute
a new tower fumbles.
All it would take for...
Their words, all their words were Satan
Every thing a sin.
Call mighty triumphs
Did He give you sight?
Or tell you only words were of use?...