Word Up Poem by Thomas Kane

Pick me up my math occurs in Bible how many times counts calculations of e=formule a way of man tombing them selves in arrogance much like my self a tardishiann Sumer owes nothing here today anymore than your worshiped Gods could owe me just a man. A philosopher in theology argues where God hates in himself he develops a satanisim of thirst to be right about word is peace and words are war. Numbers are perversions of the simple truth one is never 1 know matter whom how or why you think it could be. It is limb with knot a sualzedica of mockery. Christ did no compel hear. Here wrotes wries ice twice maybe a wapperture