This is a rubbish of human rind,
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With a photograph clutched in the half
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Of a hand in the world love underlined.
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This is a girl who died in her mind,
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With a warm fix glue and a king called call
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All the gadgets burned and the gangsters died.
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This is a death in cage and blind
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With an if in its soul and a hole in its life,
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Where the young bell tolled and the old one died.
|
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This is a jog of young, young kind
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With one right hand and one black eye
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And the eyes of his eyes are as lost as you’ll find.
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Human rind
|
| Tin Hat |
