Millions of Peaches

If black widows didn’t cry and you didn’t wonder why, didn’t someone really die?

The diamond peach is out of reach, so I teach and beseech, but the leech will breach the covenant of each and reach for that peach, stretching the skin, wearing it thin, is that anguish or a grin?

I can see within, there’s nothing within, no spirit to speak of, no soul to sell.  You’re not invited to heaven, not welcome in hell.  You need something in the coffer to make an offer the devil could not refuse.  The scandalous scoffer with nothing to proffer is not in a position to choose.  Fulfill your every desire, pretend your soul’s on fire, say you’re alive and you’re nothing but a liar.


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