The bowman_dad
looked at me
with his iron point,
in that place.
Won't you believe?
I've felt
the breeze
dry my sweat,
bring to me
his beer flauvored smells.
It was morning.
And a hidden,
drunk hunter
was standing
close to me.
Close to
my iron fear.
Close to my
merry cries.
Had a mom,
dad,
some friends,
some fuck-pals.
Had a million
of pollutions.
Saw billions
of assholes.
Well...
I won't run.
As usual
I had poison,
for breakfast.
Uhm.
Can't find the way
to say you good-bye.
Nevermind,
the bowman_dad
is still looking at me
with his iron point
in that place.




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