Use your fumiest femininity to hide your displeasure <br />of men up your arse not me yes them. <br />Sorry (no I'm not) that the pile of dog feces that jack <br />built fell down to the ground and cracked <br />your crown like it should. <br />Bipolar wench in a wrap around skirt eating finch <br />thinking it quailala until your <br />tonsils explode. <br />You have me living on some god forsaken rock in <br />the middle of the ocean I'll pack my bags move to <br />United Kingdom of immigrants then you can sniff my back. <br /> <br />I still love you,) it(s not thanks giving dont trip...Bla Bla Bla <br /> <br />but may your Christmas be worse than mine keep <br />your lips sealed dont say it.. <br />To bad I have your poems now beg.<br /><br />Is It Poetry<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/ssoofffttly-i-tread-tiaera/
