I will give one dollar
To the person who can say
"There's something wrong with this"
And actually be accurate.
I'll get on my paypal account
Make you get on yours
And send you exactly
One dollar of your choice.
After that dollar is sent
I will message you on
A MSN account
Which I will also make you get.
Once that message is sent
You will read it and smile
Because only then will you know
That all along you were wrong.
But I still sent you that dollar
Which, in good faith, reflects on me.
I again stepped on the farthest step
And made it.
Welcome to the world of the
5 O'clock Fatality.
The kind where Subzero comes along
And freezes you, hitting you once
Snowflakes on a sheet of red.
Where dreams aren't available
and only Anxiety lures into your mind.
It encases the body and surely,
Makes you want to groan.
Tossing and turning in the bed you've made
Only to realize that's not where you want to be.
But sleep is what you need, especially for work.
And with that glorious work shift ahead
All you can think is
stop saying its complete [censored], you know what kinda comments you'll get.
i don't even get why. I've written and read worse. most of the time.
would be nice to hear why.
could you do me the favor?