That question is a loaded gun.
How about the novels that most capture my attention
are those that have captured grief.
How about breaking into your innermost foundation
and busting it apart.
How about the one where you know it's bad for you
but you want it anyways.
How about that?
I have found a new love...it came in the form of a 2003 black jetta.
Absolutely lovely not only to look at, but to maneuver as well.
It's so dirty from being in melting Regina, seeing snoop dogg,
that I am ashamed to take her picture...tsk, tsk, tsk on me.
Some say it looks like a beamer, but I don't care about that.
And yes I am avoiding my homework, by writing here instead,
so on that note I leave you broken and unfed. (dead also rhymed, but if you're here you're likely not dead yet)
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