New Comedy Poetry

The winter breeze pierces through me, like a veteran tatoo artist to a rebellious 13 year old. A 13 year old with the world in front of him. And a shiny new gold ring around the ear. That ring is the world. The world seems golden. But eventually fades, and turns your hopes green. The repugdant grind of life turns said optimistic teen into a beaten 26 year old. Yes, repugdant is a word. It’s a mix between redundant and repugnant. So shut the fuck up. Quote the Raven, nevermore.

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