Yes, I realise how long it has been. Yes, I have a reason. I've been busy, and just frankly didn't know what to post about. But I will tell you the latest interest- criminology; Jack the Ripper in particular.
Anyway, I'm going to post a poem- and if there are still people reading, please let me know ;D
This one is called 'Roses Bloom, Traitors Die'.
What do you know of consequence?
You could shoot and he'd be dead
Roses would bloom on the knives you carry
Around as if they are precious off-spring
But what would you care?
You could so easily just run to your gang,
Run 'til your little feet collapse beneath you
And your last breath, so adorably
Clogs up in your throat
D-d-didn'd I tell you?
Traitors die in the end.
