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Jan 2014
Day Of The Deadly Living

Nine to five, is what you work,
both kids, think you're a ****.
Wife never wants ***,
not a phone call or even a text.
Same job for ten long years,
bills are in arrears.
At diner, no one talks,
empty is your money box.
Staying together til kids turn eighteen,
bad movie you'd never want put on screen.
What a very depressing life,
dead now, thanks to a knife.
Sometimes life is unforgiving,
day of the deadly living.
Working graveyard shift at a factory,
coming home alone is unsatisfactory.
No wife, no girlfriend or even a *******,
just Rosie, and Tara his blow up doll.
Watching **** on the old laptop,
its been so long, you need a mop.
Couldn't get laid, even in a ***** house,
up your ***, you once stuck a mouse.
No friends, neighbors hate you,
all because they know, you knew.
This poor guy never has no fun,
dead now, thanks to a gun.
His family died on Thanksgiving,
day of the deadly living.
College by day, at night a stripper,
no candy jar, can't be a dipper.
Only sleeps two hours a day,
all night long men stalk their prey.
Started snorting *******,
gave up college, for a room of champagne.
Now she is a coke *****,
opens her legs, more than you open a door.
She had no problem, just an addiction,
a lost girl, with no direction.
Blood gushing from the nose,
dead now, thanks to an overdose.
Three holes I'm regrettably digging,
day of the deadly living.
Allen Wilbert
Written by
Allen Wilbert  florida
   --- and Pradip Chattopadhyay
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