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I speak of a sore loner, A loner who had a ***** And only his hands for help. He's so scared of teenage pregnancy, He spent his years juicing his sausage, As he often got bored of 'his monotony'.
0
Jul 26, 2017
Jul 26, 2017 at 10:25 PM UTC
Loner
I speak of a sore loner, A loner who had a ***** And only his hands for help. He's so scared of teenage pregnancy, He spent his years juicing his sausage, As he often got bored of 'his monotony'.
My HP Poem #1640 ©Atul Kaushal
Atul
Written by
35/M/Indian
Jul 26, 2017
Jul 26, 2017 at 10:25 PM UTC
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