The poetry, stories and intrigues of C.J. Brenner

Tuesday, July 3, 2012

Thrill to the majestic little pill

Tasted like grass you did indeed
I thought you were a ship of the real free

But in the end it was true
Your afterthought was as good as a shrew

You thought it was me you knew so well
I am not headed quite to that hell

But your faith was not too exact
I lost your new life on a can of the tic tac

But you remain an anonymous friend
I'll know you until the end

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