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Archibald Stegosaurus
Oh, the boot but spits into the moment
Standing on the edge of every spur
Stretched out tall to summon all
To hear the fruits that pour from labor born
On a cold and edgy moment’s lip
Death makes life seem so alive
Within a deadly state
So close I feel its hot breath
Upon the edge of my diving board lip
With an angry engine rearing to dig into me
The more I see of death
Is the more I see of life
Ever stabbing me with eager spurs
Spitting dirt up from the tired earth
On the spur of every moment
You're no joke. Your writing is more than an adolescents way of expressing the enivitable turmoil of ever changing emotions. It's intensely artistic and intense art.