Comfort and able

The utterance I used to have was misunderstood. I thought I had it figured out, I thought it was all good. My deeds alone won’t put me on the throne, but will help me spill the beans to the porcelain throne.

Wow I might even be able to get some thoughts from my dome to write this poem. Maybe even spit alone with my thoughts in tow, I rode God’s dreams till the wheels fell off.  Now my aim is off road, so my IM has gone off line, morse code.

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