the whole goal
is perfect soil.
foundation to grow
a pledge to stay loyal-
photographs of home
nurtured moments of growth where we toil.
I feel like I'am spoiled
your love is a token
I only need one for the road...
it seems as if our love is boiling
spoiling in time trials and royalty
I expect aesthetics
coughing up lungs like we need paramedics
all these plans foiled.
so I smoke another foil
tell stories to the moils
churned about churches which recoil
like the cock back of this gun...no protection...just an escape route from the slums