Breaking the sky with the object of my affection
Peering down the wishing well
Leaves me to wonder about heaven & hell?
Who's to tell of our destruction
For we are vessels
With volatile intentions
Never wanting to be outdone
Life's a cabaret
A masquerade of fun
When the sun goes down
The debauchery begins
Spinning, spitting, cursing the wind
Visitor beware!
Of the devil hare
Hidden beneath your drunkards chair
Play the question in your hand
Spit red lightning
Turn to sand
That hooker in your tiger lap
Makes me nauseous
Makes me laugh!
Vegas can be so vicious
Devouring young hopefuls
And naive fools
Sitting on a shanty stool
I awaken to a drumming in my head
Wishing I were dead.
Poet: Skyy Allen
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