

A Letter to Van GoghHey, man.A Letter to Van Gogh
Your black licorice trees are on fire.
Your wheat fields are aflame
with the croaks of the gasping elderly. Your flashes of farmland
ripple with pastoral
calmness, forever
the killing fields
of forgotten warriors,
who would rather
shadow the brig of a ship in gray stencil, color calluses on cannonballs
than fight for their lives.
Take off the flash on the easel; its curdling the yellow, buttering
the blue, and theyll ferment into jaded green, envy streaking through the
pre-Moogle
by £deviantWEAR
by £deviantWEAR| I am Trav. I live in Michigan its cold here which sucks. I write poems on my free time its a pick me up. I really do enjoy doing it. I don't know if my poems are super amazing but I want to share them maybe someone will like them. I have no idea what I want to do with myself when it comes to a career. But I have fun writing poetry maybe one day you'll pick up a book and it will have my name on it. |
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Now me lay down to sleep.
Mow da zeebas down like sheep.
Give dem to me nice and dead.
Me no happy til me fed.
-Bedtime prayer of crocs, Pearls Before Swine
Hear lit tweet here
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I eat there for I should be fat! But oddly enough I am not.
Howzit
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I miss the sky, but I love the crazy people.
--- The Baxter
No one had done it yet, so there you go. If you need more help figuring things out, feel free to note me.
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Hello Toilet
*poisonedrose - thanks brett <£...ahhh brit love
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Now me lay down to sleep.
Mow da zeebas down like sheep.
Give dem to me nice and dead.
Me no happy til me fed.
-Bedtime prayer of crocs, Pearls Before Swine
My Faith in Humanity:354
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