Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
MikhaelPoems
When William walked They stayed in pace And when William stopped They backed away Williams women knew their place They prepped the food They cleaned his place They shined his shoes And shaved his face But oh Williams worth Was a wayward lot Dampened darkly Away and aloft Sparkly hamperings In the trunk of his car Scampered starkly Alone in the dark So far far and away They exclaim Oh Billy! Ol'Willy has his fame Flames but to his back As he walks away Really just another ***** A wiley killer killen em Wily nily willing or not He's lovey dovey Shovey punchy Always feelin hot When with his silly thoughts He sees the holes in their knots And gets off on their thoughts For the love of the pop The pop of the ma-gotts Sopping mind rot He gets it alot And when he stops He froths throbs Weaves and bobs Wheezes and sobs Then sneezes and hes off To either burn a stable Or poison a troth Severe a cable Or just turn it all off Offering lovelessness Amidst pimps For he is the way The way of the worlds Lawful in his lawlessness He is the glint Of the harbinger The bringer of depth The flint Of the match maker Closer to per-fect
0
Jul 20, 2013
Jul 20, 2013 at 12:26 PM UTC
Per-Fect Ma-gott
When William walked They stayed in pace And when William stopped They backed away Williams women knew their place They prepped the food They cleaned his place They shined his shoes And shaved his face But oh Williams worth Was a wayward lot Dampened darkly Away and aloft Sparkly hamperings In the trunk of his car Scampered starkly Alone in the dark So far far and away They exclaim Oh Billy! Ol'Willy has his fame Flames but to his back As he walks away Really just another ***** A wiley killer killen em Wily nily willing or not He's lovey dovey Shovey punchy Always feelin hot When with his silly thoughts He sees the holes in their knots And gets off on their thoughts For the love of the pop The pop of the ma-gotts Sopping mind rot He gets it alot And when he stops He froths throbs Weaves and bobs Wheezes and sobs Then sneezes and hes off To either burn a stable Or poison a troth Severe a cable Or just turn it all off Offering lovelessness Amidst pimps For he is the way The way of the worlds Lawful in his lawlessness He is the glint Of the harbinger The bringer of depth The flint Of the match maker Closer to per-fect
Mikhael
Written by
Mikhael
American
Jul 20, 2013
Jul 20, 2013 at 12:26 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem