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Sep 2014
He arose from the grave
Money in pocket,
To pay the keeper
But he had dead ideas instead,
Stiff,
Meat,
Warmth,
He walked with a limp
Only because one foot rotted off,
He was in search of warmth
He needed to the feel heat inside
He was expired, cold of life
Icicle,
Rigor-mortis,
Stiff,
But he roamed the night
Screams heard, ladies of the night
Not interested in cold meat,
But the one he happened upon,
***** was her name
and her fetish touch
What the hell
She takes the stiff in her mouth
Gags,
Smells,
Mouth
O well for that cash
I've had worse in my mouth
Licks,
*****,
Dust,
Sprays into her mouth,
Long time since you used that,
As he smiles,
It was worth the three minutes
What do you expect??
A stiff not used
For a life time,
Amazed it wasn't seconds
"If that"
He goes of into the night
Resting once again in his grave
One happy stiff
But because of his night of fun,
There is always a lump of mud
Raised in his plot,
No matter the times you push it down
It always rises back up..
Poetic T
Written by
Poetic T  On Oblivions Doorstep
(On Oblivions Doorstep)   
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       Sjr1000, ---, ---, Paula Lee, Poetic T and 7 others
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