Outré
Das my home
Das my stylin up bone share
Oh how contrare
Its hardly fair they get to sit and stare….
Necks well stuck up into the dry Galilee air …
Such a dueling fueling pair
We once stood there cooling with the muelling tares
Stood fast no time for silly cares and cooked pears in caramel snares
Bares the soul bears no resemblance .. no semblance.. well maybe to an Ambulance but that would only come by chance… down at the waters edge .. Hedge your bets at Sandy Gallop Get a box and call it Ballot .. Salad for the stars Stuck racing their well spent cars Incarcerated by the fact men are from Mars… Go figure with your figure its enough to divide and fall.. Gimme a call when the light returns… fifty fold is what it took for you take one free style look.. and yes can you see what we see … It’s very very old once the liquid’s no longer Gold. Very very cold now all of what was precious has been sold.
photo source : Facebook
Filed under: CRIB...Is it Legit?, My Rhymes Tagged: Life, Rhymes
