In the city ashore There lived a whore Her stomach starved for flour Spread eagle on the floor The trucker came aboard And she was left all floored No one cared for her pain It was all about gain The bitches in the house Were all scared of the mouse No one was alert enough To even hear her cough She screamed and moaned Till it appeared she was stoned The trucker was having fun As his hand reached out for his gun And in the still of the night He sensed her fright And shot the whore in her ass So there stood the lass Who was stoned by the gas She could feel no pain There was nothing left to gain She moaned in ecstasy As he crept out of his darkest fantasy And she lay there alone Wanting to go home There was not an iota of shame And the poet thinks the poem is lame
Tis a favourite project of mine, A new value of pi to assign. I would fix it at 3, For it's simpler, you see, Than 3 point 1 4 1 5 9 Another favourite project of mine, a new value of g ,I shall assign, I would fix it at 10 metres per second square coz 9.81 just doesn't seem fair ! A value of G i shall assign to prove that gravity is created not just divine it will be equal to the sum of roots , of the remainder of the product of apple like fruits a value of k i shall i assign, this value shall be divine it wont be a number it wont have a name it will be supernatural and put other constants to shame
Messages flood the inbox I have nothing more to say A Bird of paradise causes a flutter Every time she passes my way The winter sun shining not so bright Bring hope into this Gloomy day The loss of words strikes me hard I fall into the pit and hit the bottom hard I am left speechless by the bird of prey Blessed with an eagle eye for the humble and wry She swoops down upon to pick me up I was shattered n shorn Lonely n forlorn Until she helped me today A moment of magic transformed my moments of despair I wanted to confess but was left stranded outside her lair She had an aura of fantasy Was a glorious little enigma Reality or imagination She was full of a charisma And when she transforms, From a royal beast to a ballistic beauty The Gods almost forget their duty Angels whisper in hushed tones The devil waits for her to come back home In anguish and waiting for repair She comes as breath of fresh air From the land of the purple trees Chirpy like the parrots Attracted to her as rabbits ...
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