Title:
Pig pixel houses far afield of dour time; unabashed meanness forested a new retaliatory style - the big proxy floor - mutilated. Mastic fruit dwellings, bank rages in the liability of debtors' hooks whose lives implant their noses on the walls with landborn mazes; "let's smell like we belong," they whimper in these malls of well-intentioned folly ether. My Dude sold out our dug-out, daft old timber house for two doors of jewels, small faith in-hand, Fleur-de-lis mendacity. Thus espoused for comfort, I bled the blue family spleen, surging reverence for a satiated teen.
Pig pixel houses far afield of dour time; unabashed meanness forested a new retaliatory style - the big proxy floor - mutilated.
Mastic fruit dwellings, bank rages in the liability of debtors' hooks whose lives implant their noses on the walls with landborn mazes; "let's smell like we belong," they whimper in these malls of well-intentioned folly ether.
My Dude sold out our dug-out, daft old timber house for two doors of jewels, small faith in-hand, Fleur-de-lis mendacity. Thus espoused for comfort, I bled the blue family spleen, surging reverence for a satiated teen.
Author:
Bio:
What is the sum of 5 and 9:
It's your turn! Move into the poem. Renovate it. Knock down its walls. Put your spin on it. Make it your own.