Let's march in procession.
Left right right left.
That looks odd...
but I'll leave it in a bit.
Ditch the slag and we'll march.
Or skip with our L,R,R,L movements.
We could be Nazis...
Well minus the swastika and genocide.
We could march the streets and shout at the top of our lungs.
This could be what we are. Marchers.
About Me
- T.K. Rousseau
- I write, explore randomly around the town I live in, and I often forget what I was doing whilst exploring. I stare at the sky, night and day. I kick rocks when I walk. I sometimes miss the mark, trip and fall. I like water. I like calm music. I like loud and rambunctious music. I want to live by the ocean one day, preferably the Pacific. Not in a town or city, maybe a village, but secluded from humanity but close enough to see and touch it. I want to one day own one pair of shoes and live off of what my writing can bring in. I want simple living but the type of simple that is elaborate. I'm rambling on I suppose.
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