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Poema

lizor_08

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29 Mayo 2008
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Challenge gravities dynamic ascent,
disjointing white beddings waft the machine.
Stired (up) with long anemic airheads,
global paintings out the windows seen.

A dog, corpse and Britney's face formed,
aching dull knees by less room crunched.
I hate and want those nuts torned!
Little boy screams like a soprano bunch!

"No you can't make me more comfortable"
"No i don't want second-hand ear-phones!"
"Yes a glass of water would be nice"
"HEY KID, lower your tone!"

I let out an audible deep sigh,
as we descend from the high.
 

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