"...the friends that love you back will come stay in hell with you."
what strange little gadget of a poem we have here.
rotating mirrors set on gears and broken by an alarm clock mallet.
*ring ring* wake up! this poem says.
wake up and smell the rusted cogs.
in pandemonium the only constant is your friendship.
this poems like a math problem, though some of the procedures are a bit off.
oh well, I like it enough as it is...*tick tock tick tock*
Points: 1233
Reviews: 52
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