Anarchic and Old Lace
Inside of your mind is a complicated mess,
like trying to tell your story in the span of one breath,
inundated with truncation and emotionally compressed
stressed out inside until you're unable to be your best.
So pity the epitome, embodiment of tragedy,
as tactically my strategy is leading to the sanity
that apathy passes as a path of pathological logic.
Cynically my skepticism causes schisms with the anagogic.
An appetite for destruction with an appetizer of savagery
buries me with guns and roses as I slash through your pageantry.
I'm a prince of the universe so listen to my rhapsody.
Past me has passed me; passive aggressive catastrophe.
It's sad to me to need this extraneous extravagance,
this ancillary assonance assists me in intransigence,
I shock a crowd of ravenous advocates of avarice
and massacre the criticisms aimed at my analysis.
My ambivalence, equivalent to a rowdy undergraduate,
is directly intermingled with the threat of the cadaverous,
as ancie
JohnnyCurcio
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