02-24-2019, 09:56 PM | #1 |
DMS—Diddled My Stick
Join Date: May 2018
Posts: 1,104
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HomeMadeMummy
Home Made Mummy
In my room you’ll find me dead, inside, Canopic jars. Funny how I used everything but not the heart. Never in search of green, but still grass across 2 yards. Found myself 6 feet before a plan to chop the parts. A chance to top the charts? You’re officially off base. A placement on a list doesn’t make the skill exist. Blank it, blanket, pillow, kiss, it’s the end a long day. Never meant to have grades Top, only meant to be Top great. Never meant to be strange-hop, only meant to have Chalk laid. Elementary-phase jots, went to better than Jaws plays. No rEgrets of the days lost, just regrets of lost-days. (Unexpectedly, I ditch free-verses to free verses) Mummify your self while your guts are still alive. Just to find a wealth of the stuff you fill with pride. Plummet 1,000 steps, do one-thousand more. Walk the whole thing broken just to view the final score. Sort the portals by row, glyph it. Slave away till the cruise ship just for hieroglyphics. These ideas come to me, all weary and stupid. Forbid me to rest till the theory is proven. (Shall thoust not cease for a sabbath?) The pyramid blueprints, the loneliest chef. What I picked up sticks, but now it stones me to death. (Mummify Yourself, mummify Yourself, home grown slow moan, mummify Yourself.) (u-u-u-u- use the words, Luke) Last edited by DMS; 02-25-2019 at 04:00 PM. |
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