well, here's a poem of mine that doesn't make any sense. it's also in the random section, but even though it makes no sense at all, I LOVE IT...and yes, i'm a little out of it.
that would go on for me to come.
There was a everyday I was walking up that walkway,
I’d for usually listen to your stories sat slouching white house f what we all knew as Helen’s Lane,
At the edge with a picket fence and a porch hours.
You’d look at me for much
To where you swing.
It felt like waiting -needed advice.
i told you! makes no sense!