mourning plant's ward
Hello My Dearest Readers,
I will give you some Kraken poetry,
maybe later I will tell you about the Kraken transformation
She's sun failing, the leaves of a mourning plant's ward
Tune with a tuning fork for a real life vibrating
Shy heard strengthens pills for shy kin's barren shush
Eerie sing shut wove
Cuts me cruel
Sound cloud, my shy art from the say of my heart grounded
Pin the fair in you
King H. Ironson
Seemingly with your residence
In hen boo intercurred
Heir loom
Pepper actually rim tenant curiosity
Tear her art piss a frowned comb.
King H. Ironson
I can't explain these things to the fart inside of me
please help me release the same tame game
of a wild smelly air so lame
just to honor your terrible fame
that grinded your soul far than prime
for eons to come
I'll give you same tame lame fame prime rhyme of my shrine in wine that I call mine
oh nine nine nine you are all mine
fine or dine don't mean a dime
King H. Ironson
I play with the words
just like the chirping birds
there are no primal girds
my mind's pinned with no guards
day's of old never ends
my mods, my mads, my bads
they all gambled for your bids
to a lame flower with no buds
cannot help my hearts wards
full of rhyming bards
such nerds with beards missing awards
all the roads sends ends with hard sharp shards
you cannot master the odds like the gods
King H. Ironson
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