Monday, September 04, 2006

Bitter Tale



I walk this grand city,
It’s what many see as Albion’s very own Vegas
Yet most pioneers seem to look shaken and withdrawn.

Brutal lies
A blanket of which I sleep under,
My dear friend,
bless him
As he was the one who warned me,
That the only Romanism would be
What I generated in my mind.

I wander the crowded stalls
Many of which, if I had the time,
I would stop, and ponder whether or not
To purchase some thing to waste
All my hard earned giro away.

But I have more important people to see,
(Another lie, as they are merely scumJust like myself,)
A life of mine to waste.

I sit and stare,
Drinking from my Battered, china tea cup,
I inhale and it seems better
But that’s just, yet another lie
I have formulated in my head.
I love to steal the enthusiasm

That they possess
Or at least portray,
To rip it from their arms,
To steal it from their soul,
To witness the innocence
That I have the power to tear away,
And oh my,
I have just the way.

Chloe Dyer


3 comments:

Big Lew said...

SUMTHIN ELSE CLO. ALL FAIRNESS. LEW X

amy said...

this is amasin :]
ur best yet lady.

look out world.
here she comes.
x

lauren said...

well done chlo!! :]

this is awesome...
even tho i dont understand half the words lmao..
well done :]

xx