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one last poem for crew one two

Imust point out that I broke near all of my rules in my poem. Yes Tza is a man of contradiction, converlusion, but importantly compassion. As we come to the end I feel it is important for me to write a poem once again. This will be about our year and made up as I drink (when you find yourself pulling 100 down aro street so you can get a bottle of wine at 12pm you have to reasses where you're at)!

so we come to the end,
blick, shit you missed it
did you ever know what was going on
I did
in sippets

man I swug the fuck out of that boom
the camera, I avoided using the zoom
it smells like art department in here,
no wait that was Faramarz walking, stopping and halting to stare.

bruno, one crocadile
Joe wouldn't it better if
little johns you cunt yee
DC's writing, a rare gift

who knows what tomorrow will bring,
maybe sunshie maybe rain
who knows what we going to do
I can never willingly do the same

Henry tell us how it is
Chris a panther backed into a corner
he failed to see the window above
Glen place you're lights you knows there powered with
love
Jamie sits and watches
Bring in Andras, veiw the production tighten in notches

Will you be missing this place, I know I will
Tommy and JR
Alison being moody, lovely, and shrill

Kirsty and her supercillous attitude,
she is beautiful and enlightened, doesn't fuck around,
don't confuse this with being rude

Yeah I got cardinal with Bek's
It was always going to happen
I couldn't stand her
can you fight that attraction?

Nico, most unreliable, a beuatiful kid
The woodsman, the creature lurking in the shadows
our classes David Lynch.

Forgive my spelling, I have slight teretis
I say things I shouldn't, some would regret

Caro so passive, silent, and observing
Robbins hard and fast, his beard untamed and deserving
Shuka a man who walks quietly and carries a big stick
fast with a thought, quick with his wit.

I guess that leaves me.
On that what can I lament,
I would have annoied, enamoured, and caused you to
cercumvent.
I hope I inspried, re wired and tired.
I hope I conviced, sinc-ed, and caused you to drink.

Smoke pot and think of me.
Drink whiskey and think of all I have written.
For you must know I will do the same.
You people I wear on my sleeve
you 16 who both run and salted my game.

As I drink my seven dollar fifty wine
As I listen to morose song
I think of you, of our year interwined
our year under each others skin
and I tell you this with no doubt

You are my kin.

Tza...

Thanks crew one two, and yes I'm drunkish, but no pot was involved with the creation of this poem, hense why it ryhmes.

for you consideration

check this out the cover I designed don't like tell me why