May 2018
Sometimes I wish I really was a bin.
Trash could fill my surrounds, and in.
******* would be in my mind,
I sometimes I could hope,
that a coin
might land
inside
.
Trash could fill my surrounds, and in.
******* would be in my mind,
I sometimes I could hope,
that a coin
might land
inside
.
A graphically pleasing poem written about embodying my alter-ego transformation.
