nine twenty-eight two thousand nine

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  • Lost Love

    nine twenty-eight two thousand nine

    when you came to me you changed my sight
    since the first day i could see in a new light
    what can i say you have and effect on me that's great
    i came to that conclusion on day twenty-eight
    but what have i come to, to make u cry
    now I'm in a position wishing i was still shy
    so maybe if i changed from this broken proto-type

    in the end i analyzed myself to the wrong conclusion
    now I'm bending over backward for a better retrabution

    ......not to sure what to do with the missing part

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    Poetry is either something that lives like fire inside you or else it is nothing, an empty formalized bore around which pedants can endlessly drone their notes and explanations.

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    Antiperfect’s Poems (3)

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    if ever 0
    mi amor 0
    nine twenty-eight two thousand nine 0