Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
May 2015
doth hate yourself ***,
for an *** with mind is still an ***
flaunting about the property of knowlege,
like every little gasp, saves you from laughing stock

doth Bring yourself justification
for beeing such an ***'
and though you seem a *****,
my lady your still a lass

So bring to me the right kind,
of liquid, intoxicating
and sit back and smile, as i lie here,
Written by
Death-throws  hamilton, new zealand
(hamilton, new zealand)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems