Check In's are due MONDAY
Verses are due by TUESDAY
Voting end's THURSDAY

16-48 lines long

Topic...
Fallen

__________________

Checking In...........
.............................
.............................
.............................
.............................

im in like funk on pig............................................... .......
......................................

Blood on Beats? Yeah, and busted eggs on rust stained concrete. . .

Tonight, with no fright, I'd like to tax your emotions by asking you to let go, and/
Listen to the little soliliquy about what I am, was, and never can be/
Relax before you label me as reporters do daily/
This is coarse from the source, I'm requesting you listen to this trash-bin baby/
I disfiguredly embody a premature night of pasion/
A teenage right of passage that resulted in more than rashes/
My parents heroes? Their mean wage flashes only zeroes/
I'm the late night drunk plight that would ignite from back massage/
I'm now coming out and up while falling down and cut as an error message/
Abort, Retry, Fail? You and your lusting cohort denied my life before I enhaled/
Sorry Mom, I won't hang on any longer, but your coat hanger has made me increase my police siren song here/
Cause and Effect? Six months ago my pop's sausage erect left you a wreck/
A load that would push you to prob a hook in my neck. . . Just to flatten my affect?/
Thanks for the placenta you leant, ma. Damn I'm proud of the way you see things through/
Like me, ejected and dejected on the streets, a mess: Red, White and Blue/
And even though I don't deserve this, Queen Bee/
If you were ever nervous, I'd warm your cold feet/
36 ounces on concrete—98.6 degrees of fresh meat/
And I'm not sure if you saying "Oh My God!" and jetting was an obituary and funeral percession/
But I'm pretty sure that Satan is gonna catch wind of this and say: "Oh Bitch, Beware Me." Those are Dark Intentions. . ./
If you're wondering why a lump of life freshly dumped tonight is such a visionary. . ./
Dare we play god with these babies, with ones who could once more part the sea?/

Huh?

It could have been anytime or any night. . ./
"When you least expect it" type ish, keep modern-man hype out of sight/
But I guess we have to modify those passages/
For mothers today are unwilling to become believers/
Dear Mom: You pried from the people the Messiah: Jesus/

Fin




The end didn't come out as I wanted it to. But I thought it was a nice development.

Fuck the no-showers.
........................................
........................................
........................................

Comments?... Nope?...
...................................
...................................
...................................