Crooked Style Poem by FOEVERAMI JOHNSON

Crooked Walk & Style
When the timing is wrong nothing will ever be right. Marriages Out of sight, out of mind still raises the question on why waste my physics time, within the wrong seasons, constantly lying this is a bond that will always be broken, not even with a 50cent token, this love is dead and broken in my dreams.
I have not risen but that fall allows me to stay woken, who's broken me or him, a dream can't tell (Who's Screaming Help Me) !
Death won't do us apart because the ending is where We start, not with a march but with Starch from an ironed bleached man spiritually sleep in the country. Or so he says a public figure that wiggles. Sneaky giggles...crooked teeth and a beautiful smile, all the while...
He's spilling hate on top of a pile this high, wherever he is in time and space, I love him in a Gods universe way. Please come and find me I am displaced! 414-504