I sit alone, lonely, writer, we are meat for a gator, can't hold a real job
Poetry of life

I sit alone Broken Hearted

I sit alone Broken Hearted went to write never started. not so easy writing stuff. holding steady jobs is mighty tough. make a decent living if you can masquerade as authors in freedom land. buy your soup crumble crackers. join me later when it matters. when now is then, when all came later, human meat… Continue reading I sit alone Broken Hearted

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