by: Francis Joseph LaManna
The amusement park isn't amusing, I'd rather not be stopped while pursuing. It's without. An echoing shout- fills the space. Remove your face from my face. The laughing ceased, I chose to ignore, unpleased, I still see, I still hear, though, still not in fear. In keeping the power. Now and at the hour, I look no further than myself. In this regeneration, I created the ending. I guess Juno fell and broke her crown, Another hidden enemy- wicked from the top down. And here I am, Still standing, Still solo on the landing, I'm hard as hell on myself, but God isn't too demanding. Moving past the stare, I'm moving forward, Working through another square. I'm not popular, not too many heard of me, and one by one they continue deserting me. But for the life of me, I don't see the emergency. If they only knew- I altered the circle before turning thirty. Eleven Eleven, There is a connection, Sixty-Nine, thirteen, and twenty-seven, His pitchfork burns in hell, but he reigns in heaven. The fire still burns..