Saturday, 26 November 2011


Why is that bitch feeding my soul?
Adopted my soul, raising my soul, Am I a fool?
Her winters like cold velvet sheets,
Trees crying before being nude,
Raped by the wind,
Seasonal voyeurism.
The City Life Mag wondering how to be part of classism,
Well, stop asking and chase it like a barbarism.
She's a Miss this city, very shy and tall,
Walking around the globe like a tramp at a fancy mall,
Tiptoes to enter the room of a dominion,
At least she ain't knockin at the door of the Patron.
She patrons me before they all do,
Shivery times of December mean shit, I'm her boo.
She holds me in her arms before they all do,
Do you have something to say about her? It's all good!
Spring is the alarm clock, everybody up!
She rises again with campus girls smelling like strippers on Thursday night,
They are just less professional.
You want to be big, start acting like an immortal,
Power to the people, the CN Tower and your daughters,
Dangerous beauty fusions, mixture of sadness and love devotion.
Have you ever seen a city flirting with Eternity?
Possibly! But Fuck! I want you to believe,
Divine sins will make tease Eve,
Mediocre sins staying away from Adam,
Toronto! Bite the Apple! Make it Big!
And please have a seat in the warming room of divinities.
Until we overdose, Am at Orbit waiting for your ring,
With drop-dead pensive ladies. 

By Demonsandiosas

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

That's exactly how I feel in the big T.O! Sally