Utkast;
Jag hatar verkligen när man kommer på bitar utav dikter men inte har tid/ork/inspiration till att göra något av dem. Men sålänge så lägger jag dem här som påminnelse.
Little boy reaching
with his hands towards the sky
looking to tear it down
and keep it for himself
One-hundred and ninety-three gallons worth of war awaits,
and a plastic badge from his dead and buried mother to justify it all
O, the naivety!
Cut this childs hands!
Requiem! Requiem!
The fall of heart
The death of stripes and stars
edit*: Äsch, nu får den väl nästan duga?
Little boy reaching
with his hands towards the sky
looking to tear it down
and keep it for himself
One-hundred and ninety-three gallons worth of war awaits,
and a plastic badge from his dead and buried mother to justify it all
O, the naivety!
Cut this childs hands!
Requiem! Requiem!
The fall of heart
The death of stripes and stars
edit*: Äsch, nu får den väl nästan duga?
Kommentarer
Trackback
