The Poem Written at K-Fest
What have you done in a world?
Milk is white, but dreams uncurled, in a world.
Unsweetened treasures can bring little lights.
To listen in on flannel flights. Ouch kites!
Out on 46th, never know a tide, right?
Can't try to take over fly by night flights.
Overnight?
Who's journey can overwhelm favorite friends.
But nothing compares to likens within. Ben?
You're kind of playing a nasty menthol skydive.
What you don't know, the girl, is she alive?
Fireside spatulas find their way home.
Hammocks have hammers with apples and chrome.
What can we do with this?
Milk is white, but dreams uncurled, in a world.
Unsweetened treasures can bring little lights.
To listen in on flannel flights. Ouch kites!
Out on 46th, never know a tide, right?
Can't try to take over fly by night flights.
Overnight?
Who's journey can overwhelm favorite friends.
But nothing compares to likens within. Ben?
You're kind of playing a nasty menthol skydive.
What you don't know, the girl, is she alive?
Fireside spatulas find their way home.
Hammocks have hammers with apples and chrome.
What can we do with this?
Hahaha, it doesn't make a load of sense, but it's just like most revered poems.
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