who are you bitch

I look in the mirror and I find the answer, it´s good and bad,
fucking sad, or not, push yourself to the ultimate limit and
then you tell me who are you, only through being fucked up.
I wanted to write a poem, hit it.

bitch
ends in a ditch
she screech
and i become the daddy
you are my honey

Stay Frosty gents and gentesses.

Advertisements

5 comments

  1. I think yor poem is very harsch, but I give it my like because the reality is harsch and somebody has to tell the truth and I’m a fan of the truth. Very goog writing. I hope you are well and that you spend Christmas outside that town your in and I hope your mother is getting better. Hugs

      1. I’m glad to hear that. That’s what is so great about you. You tell the truth. Well not always, you lied to me about living in Madrid :), pero no pasa nada. Take good care.

      2. Bueno, ahora mismo sí te creo porque son las 17.38 y es totalmente oscurro al fuera, el cielo también. Pero si es una metáfora tuya, solo tú puedes saber si es de verdad o no. Feliz navidad!

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s