I listen to the prose you utter,
The unspoken rules that you mutter.
Sometimes I don’t open my mouth,
I hear your twisted logic,
Your conventional ways of being prolific.
Sometimes I don’t do a thing,
I stare at your confident mannerisms,
Your obvious terrorism's.
© Amy Serafina
The unspoken rules that you mutter.
Sometimes I don’t open my mouth,
I hear your twisted logic,
Your conventional ways of being prolific.
Sometimes I don’t do a thing,
I stare at your confident mannerisms,
Your obvious terrorism's.
© Amy Serafina
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