Innerspace of a Pincushion
Time whispers on the littlest Pincushion "That Henry is ‘Him’"…
One Needle jauntily walks away
On springy steps savouring every ounce of their Poems.
Desmond's Electromagnetic anomaly makes pins sway
The streets and spills through sinew and a bleeding heart,
Sorrow walks the jungle whilst Jack is an idiot
Cutting through lands unforgiving
Puffed up trying to access the Innerspace of a Pincushion
To the same spot never the same background
When random worlds take hold of the text
The streets and spills through sinew and a bleeding heart,
Sorrow walks the jungle whilst Jack is an idiot
Cutting through lands unforgiving
Puffed up trying to access the Innerspace of a Pincushion
To the same spot never the same background
When random worlds take hold of the text
Hidden from the sight of God
Lost it seeps through me, now and next in the land of Nod
A Poechemitical Opus inspired by the mighty poetry of Pincushion by The Cloned Corpse of Marcus Tal
Lost it seeps through me, now and next in the land of Nod
A Poechemitical Opus inspired by the mighty poetry of Pincushion by The Cloned Corpse of Marcus Tal
posted by the cloned corpse of marcus tal @ 7:22 AM
6 Comments:
Gosh!
I am touched,
I am honoured,
I am speechless!
Nobody has ever written a poem for me or about me before...
Thank you Oh Lord of Cloned-Corpse-of-Marcus-Tal,
*Bows*
Thank you
:))
Dear Pincushion
You are most welcome
Kind Regards
interesting style!
Stop spoiling Lost you fiends!
What is Lost?
we all bow down in front of the glorious image of goddess glory that is pincushion. surely the sexiest nymph on the blog?
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