Make your choice to love me or leave me.

Do not keep someone hanging on.

If you haven’t got anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.

Here’s a random poem I made about money falling outa the sky…and what would happen to all the poor noobs out there…altho if this was real, we’d probably die if you get hit. This is my first poem, so it might be crap, comments would be nice though!

Blues Song.

It all started as a small tiff; it began with a drizzle but turned into a heavy downpour.

About prostitutes and things on that line…

This is an actual dream I had.

Falling from heaven.

Haiku.