Hell’s yes
Roses are red, violets are blue. I’ve said what I said. Now what do I do. Mysteries lay upon us all. Some are short. Some are tall. Wondering around clueless as can be. There is not a time where a sound could end up so free. Figuring out the mind that has said. Pretending the world couldn’t be more dead. Hopeful joy sprouts its wings. Which hopefully the hope stays away from its fiends. Do as day. Day as night. filling the air with pure delight. What do I do? What must of been said? And before I knew it, everyone was dead.
