Words up?

Words curds and cud and mud and probably wobbly stud muffin fluffin pillows till those roses kill foes with sniff's of noses suppose I froze tomorrow under a cinder of fire drowned river rotten liqour soured the liver of the eternal life giver so I shiver with death's clacking bones by my throne of decay swaying like children on swings one swoop and you're free the next swing ties you tightly frighten me excite me with excitement light me on fire bite my well starched suited attire I might just hire a clown with a pithy little gun making your death a pun in front of a school of nuns pow pow the crowd goes wow when blood of a real person shatters like it was frozen from open gushing wounds as red as the cheeks of an awkward blushing bafoon I'd just as soon stop giving you all this golden free for all because I'm in the knowing and that means that I'm in the dark glowing I'm so furiously showing tiny flickers like premiere pictures scriptural stick figured compared to my fully realized colorful bounty of artistry funny how easy it is to scoff until trying out the free flowing it gets easy to get lost perhaps that's why I like it there little tike hug bear so snug and bare of care unsnapped by the snare just motor mouthing the crust of trust just might tear there where rotten smoten apples get gotten often smoking unravels the barrels. And that's all without word check or mentally checked dialect. WHAT?  

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