It was time to face the music score an eighth symphony of Beethoven was deaf as a post office of fair trading cards on the table tennis. The decision to do so had not been taken lightly dusted with a feather boa constrictor. At which point the cheap plastic turning Japanese keyboard stormed into the room for improvement demanding wife an explanation of liquorice all sorts but, for no good reason, the reply was not forthcoming.
The visiting display cabinet of miniature line-dancing uranium badgers was attempting an unsuccessful resuscitation doll, it dolls for thee, while the audience participation levels were disappointingly low morale booster jab to the left wing of the party all night long for your touch that and I’ll kill you, and only you, are the one for me.
Mistakes? I’ve made a lot…
Porcelain hands scratched lies in the air like a portmanteau sock-mending kit which she didn’t understand because all was obscure in the vicious call-centre department store in a dry in place in a dark, warm cupboard love me do not enter at your own risk losing everything.
Plate of copper-handed ridicule; masqueraded dictionary ignorance with forlorn lovers’ tiff; anger melted, truth absconded, whale song exploded-extrapolated, meteors landed gracefully on a runway with all its landing lights intact.
Despair and disillusionment all too often. Shut up – the rudest thing you can say to anybody. Relive the moments of passion from a limp, bleeding art-form which is your worthless life. It will all end of days and confused.
Nevertheless, fighting, arguing, fighting, arguing, resort to drugs, drink, self-doubt, crashing hypocrisy, the desire to outdo even the weak. The meek shall inherit the worthless. The meme shall inherit the dearth of originality. Dark words meander along a random organized path of indecision and unrequited violence. Metastasis. Why doubt the existence of such words? Free as birds in the air about to be shot. Tumbling down like a blown up village.
Let’s face the music and.