The screen indicates "loading...loading",
But all I read is "loathing, loathing".

My butter is hard on the mouldy bread,
And stale milk fills my empty breath.

I smell the flower's dying odours,
And hear the gander croaking wild.

I see my dreams like fragile glass
Shatter against the wind's stormy face.

My sleep is like a waiting grave
In which I'll die; from which I'll rise.

My fear is real, and stalking me.
As these last letters are made free.

you ran away and
before you were
writing someone else's words
"plagiarism ain't a sin"
you said
i pretended i hadn't heard
but

summer soldier, would you fight for me?
summer soldier, would you go overseas?
summer soldier, those girls are awful pretty
would you die for me?
could you lie to me?

now i see
you were born to break things
countless pretty little hearts
crushed them up to
fine dust in the wind
never to return again
but

When a jinx is broken
Something new takes its place
From the awards so far taken
The worth puts smiles on a face
Retarded energy draws them back
Till a jinx puts a stop to it

When a jinx is broken
Shattered shackles of slavery
That held captives to be beaten
Now testify to their bravery
Ill luck suffered setback
A jinx put an end to it

Tucked safe within my small abode
warmed by the snap and hiss of fire
as sleet peppers the old tin roof
sparks escape the contained pyre

Within the flames my mind drifts off
upon a tide of winter sound
and settles on the sylvan lands
as, outside, ice covers the ground

Ice that tinkles like wind chimes
when it falls from frozen trees
shaken off of shivering limbs
by the first chill morning breeze