Smoke is exhaled
through chaped lips that often smile
but the storm clouds
still rest along these desserts
yet they refuse to ease the pain
old hermits often sit in silence
but knowledge is the key to the prospects
chasing dragons only leads to myth
and the nights that often adorned shinny armor
are now the homless people
that lie in trash dumps














Comments
but it seems unfinished to me.
but either way nice job aaron.
--
My rhymes are the shit.
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