Some thoughts are made to stay fresh,and others are made to dissapear…..
In my mental thoughts
war stories ink stain the mental
a passionate melody from my heart beat,becomes the instrumental
to the words never told on paper
but yet a victim to my finger, pounding the keyboard
putting in print, verses to a script
tighter than a loaded gun
with the hand on the grip
ready and shoot
but the barrels curved
gripping the thought but killing the nerve
to ever stay dry
Through the storm
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