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Fie KroC Poems
Happy Val(end) tine
Happy Valentine, I hope you choke on chocolate, Happy Valentine, or of the nauseatingly romance in the air This stomach-turning smell of red roses,
Don't fear The Reaper
R E A D
Oh Music, you I love, you I truly love The pureness of your sweet touch, the way you move souls Oh Music, you who makes me humble, you who makes me cry of happiness The overwhelming feeling of perfection that catches my ears,
We are the wild ones hit the streets with thunder and guns
Hey, I’m just a lonely soul waiting for someone to rescue me I’ve fallen down in this hole, please someone help me up I hear them at night whisper to me, ’help is on the way’ But I see no one, I see no one, only the sky above me
Voices in my head, haunted screams torture my mind every night and I feel the spiders crawl in their web yet again Dreams are made winding through my head, through my head, before I again am awake But those screams of hunger and war they’ll do anything to tear me apart, and I cry blood
So you are pretty you say? You look like all the others. You got style you say? Your own style? Take a magazine and look, there is your “style”.
Escaping in creativity, trying to subdue other feelings, forget the sickness, down with the sickness. In my mind, in my fantasy I can be who I want to be. I can be what I want to be.
Life before the big city
When it’s quiet and I can’t hear the summing from the cars, the sirens in the air and the lively talk from people, I think back. Back when I lived in the small town, the town I just wanted to get away from. Those ghostly streets, people in black and white, never excepting differences. I remember all my lonely days, when I wish I could travel out on my own, meet someone more like me. But I never did. So when I was done with school, I was done with this town, these people. I moved away. To the noise.
The smell of cake... It’s so exasperating, yet so tempting You just want to devour it all like a fucking pig! But it’ll stick on your body and you’ll turn into a plump cake yourself.
Sometimes I just want to cry, I don’t know why exactly, I just know I do. When I feel so miserable and lonesome.
Hate to feel
You feel dizzy, feel your bones through your fragile skin Your heart beats slowly like an ancient clockwork. You feel your veins, poke them with your needles, and enjoy the pain
Comments about Fie KroC
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821)
Happy Val(end) tine
Happy Valentine, I hope you choke on chocolate,
Happy Valentine, or of the nauseatingly romance in the air
This stomach-turning smell of red roses,
The desires in the night
Happy Valentine, will Amor’s arrow kill you?
Happy Valentine, I certainly wouldn’t mind it
The sexy lingerie you’ve bought, I hope it won’t fit,
And the candles, let them blaze!
Happy Valentine, why so happy Valentine?
Happy Valentine, you got beaten with clubs, stoned, and then beheaded
Valentines Day, you’re bloody awful!