hitalot879 | Poetry Vibe
hitalot879
This poet practices good karma and posts comments 23500
contest winner 2
contest winner
a bit of prairie to seed that other earth I hold inside my mind

Site Rank

RUBY

  double ruby
Total poems   1138
Lifetime Views   208511
Total poems - 7 days   0
Total poems - 30 days   0
Total poems - 90 days   0
Total poems - 365 days   0
you need to login or register to leave a comment

TRUMP SMELLS B.O.

CATEGORY

life

Views: 151

TRUMP SMELLS B.O.

TRUMP SMELLS B.O.

BUST UP THE BEAT TO INTRODUCE IT'S TEMPO
GOT ME PLACES TO GO
SILENCE IS GOLDEN GOT BLOOD THAT"S UNFOLDING
SITS IN HIS IVORY TOWER ENGAGED IN THE WALL WHILE HE SITS IN HIS IVORY TOWER

 

TRUMP SMELLS B.O.

I know years to know used to being with your history

eager long to achieve

needs to take a nice hot shower

going down to the wire...,

 

got choices with the most chances highway glances

glad he switch his Depends tyed beauty within,

another one bites the dust with the whole world in a rush

doing cart wheels out in the mood a sought of time to renew

 

Trump Smells B.O. which way should we go ?

some are in a trance

a given chance at any romance

Pac sought love through concrete

on again out again cry for relief

 

Can We Talk ?

hit a sister mister said to high HITLER,

SONG REMAINS THE SAME SOUGHT EVEN SHADE

LOVE FAXED IN WHERE IT IS WE DEPEND

 

YOU GOT TO KNOW WHERE YOU ARE iNSTEAD YOU HIDE LIKE ROSANNE BARR

NEEDS TO STOP BY INSTEAD OF GETTING HIGH

VAPE

with heightened fresh tender moments like these drift away to the sea...
suffering long in an empty room my pain drifts in illusive rights become pure
day by day we hear the sound of a lonely owl out in desperation my stomack leaks
cheer up good cousin as the thoughts simmer again back from beyond cracking,
this is enough of a good spot gross way back sat the owl in fact through radio

Trump Smells B.O. button down the captors embrace the hellos
I'm bust out the beat to increase the tempo...,
Silently in the dreams eating delicious ice cream,
I maybe a man of all mans,
P.U.
in the port of storm we call commercial radiating plugged in seperation,
fine darling pillars the growth of here after old man sit by the log cabin
at night he would take a pee outside his window taking heed to nature's dream
the owl would suddenly draw empty nothing but framed silence in togetherness
our cameras freshly made eating potato dumplings...

I aim human fresh under my wings,
look to the sun to help you get by...

You must be registered to leave a comment. Registration is FREE.

Register

COMMENTS

No comments. Be the first to enter a comment.

login below

Forgot your username?