This is the last poem of eye.
The aged hippie will have his bride
but Eye will have my ewe-wife bird do
fly and cops decide who will sleep in
peace and who will move The TOOTH is in
decay and bayer can handle the pain
Mye Violet is the purple sun in me
I just realized your poems are like
ghazals, like love poems from the 14
century or something?
This must be she thinks this of eye ???
Mixing concrete forms do not make the heart of an Eye
Eye mix sand and gravel, men do not make the streets
Boss cracks the whip and me and the EWE are off for more concrete Love will cure the hardened mass of my heart, bad people try to kick my ass The heart of one who cares so far away will save the day while Jesus wills and cupcakes for desert Eye think of you in my bed of woe and bad people try
to make me move but above it all I will endure for my Pookie
(3hehhhhh
eye wrote three lines in this eye rhymes with eye.
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