Poetry

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Complex Man can we beome an also ran,should i fall into the Devil's plan,
from God alone is all Grace for Sorrow;who could call to-day to-morrow,
still i walk around with feet of clay with ever just a single stay,future tense
is forever whence;tell us something new ,fear my crystal is like the foggy
dew;thought's are soundless act's we know mr. j. do we need you to tell
us that to-day,just a reminder for my false self not too delay rust corrodes
which thought's become my heaviest load,where acts implode;are you a saint
no just a man with my own taint,still i pray it aint,amen says repent;today is our
own trail's extent, wait for a day,how like it.
jOE.

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