Soft Air Gums How's This Poem I Just Wrote? It's Called Rose Liquid?

How's this poem I just wrote? It's called Rose Liquid? - soft air gums

By Slash

Air

And cut

Bone

As soft flesh

And he stood up liquid

Separate

To steel the corner.

Tears and cries;

The echo in the night shaking

And white leaves

And wrinkles

Because the skin of the elderly.

The eyes, the size of the

Silver coins

Opening windows

And spills

In young leaves of lettuce.

Red violin

Percentage of deadwood

With his music,

With easy, push the bow cons

Rusty Chains, Share

Salty orange-red particles in suspension

Be performed only by fleas

He's hiding in the back of a dead cow.

Rose sinks deep fluid

In the clothing industry

Whoever hits Stormwind

His name called.

Hollow faces dancing in the leaves

Case, as white as snow

On a black swamp

This light is absorbed

In its depths.

The leaves fall in

The dark area

When the man's teeth

back into the gums.

Strikes Steel Wedge

Cons Earth

Increase backup

Crispy dead

Mush.

Dear Rose-red liquid,

Stick to the wedge.



Never let it go.