Originality, grunting and
tumbling past crumbling hippos, fluffy hikers.
Originality is a slimy world that sticks out of yourself. It’s like sharp thorns going right at you.
Originality is rough like a tree, it is a leaf
that tumbled into a fire.
Originality—Fire of
beauty—smooth.
Because, because
I want to break
the
rules.
The crumbly, sharp purple paint tumbled to the side of the bottle to make way for the fresh, slimy paint as it stringed out onto the canvas.
I would look like a tree, then I would move by
the wind back and front and my leaf would fall
from my branch. I would believe in world peace.
The world would be safer.
Originality is a sharp scream in humanity
That says; “Sista, taste your surroundings!
Tumble into a new world and escape the
hasty scampering of the every day lives of
NORMALITY.”
tumbling past crumbling hippos, fluffy hikers.
Originality is a slimy world that sticks out of yourself. It’s like sharp thorns going right at you.
Originality is rough like a tree, it is a leaf
that tumbled into a fire.
Originality—Fire of
beauty—smooth.
Because, because
I want to break
the
rules.
The crumbly, sharp purple paint tumbled to the side of the bottle to make way for the fresh, slimy paint as it stringed out onto the canvas.
I would look like a tree, then I would move by
the wind back and front and my leaf would fall
from my branch. I would believe in world peace.
The world would be safer.
Originality is a sharp scream in humanity
That says; “Sista, taste your surroundings!
Tumble into a new world and escape the
hasty scampering of the every day lives of
NORMALITY.”