the trees grow in the backwood
shinning in reverence to this perverted perfection
a glistening whore of nature
inhaling beauty like a crack blast
shot through a trail of bloody moments.
sick, paranoid succubus;
amusment park for the confused and scarred
a bitter, loveless caress
candy shop of broken dreams
the masses gather with the peircing glow of emptyness in there eyes
standing in a feild of worry set behind walls and two car garages
waiting for a train going nowhere
its beauty kills
it kills like the trees growing in the backwood
standing as testament to the viod,listless smile of the summer
wind
smirking as it rustles the leaves
hiding behind the greenish yellow glow
of planned seniscence.
unfinished
Comments
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gonna let you finish this one... again do some spell checking ... let me know when it is done dear
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