Saturday, September 15, 2012

Standard Rays of Gold.

Snip snap their goes my nap
No longer may I believe in disbelief
Today will be placed upon a satin tablecloth,
for interrogation in court of law.

My tongue no longer tastes dissatisfaction
In my angst towards taste buds I forgot how to swallow.
I only gulped.
I only fettered.
I only spat-out.

In birth I was luckily handed a baby bib for my aversion to society
Allergic to conventionalism I became a conventional individual who only can conceptualize his own convections
In eight years or less, I am bound to be blessed with a tastier upgrade.

Bringing thr3e shoes along in my grocery basket
I was adequately prepared for the cucumber collapse in aisle sev7n
Wish I wouldn’t always leave my gollashing boots under my rainy day, “precipitation” labeled, outfits.

Standardly, today in a first world country was long & stressful.

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