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Poetic T Feb 2020
Woeful of degenertaive
        Misgivings..

I walk the streets looking
       For mister right.


Then I hear Neanderthal
      Callings....

"All right darling,

Fancy some meat in between
        Then bones....

I look upon there fingers,

   Looking for a rope of shame.

I smile, I play nice..


    Pulling them into an Alleyway,

        I asking them,
          does your wife mind.

What she doesn't know
    Won't hurt her...


"Maybe not her but you,

As bolt croppers loose his finger
    From his palm..


Screams were to ensue,
   But gagged by lace *******..

Shoved deep within
   his dry throats...

Did you know gold rolls
   when its not weighted down
  

by the fidelity of indiscretions.

He'll not be using that finger on
        another's crying tears...

They came up with a name for me?
    I was honoured,

The guillotine of divorce..


I giggled as the amount of rings
          that rolled decreased..

Finding those who were single just
         looking for a night of fantasy.

Ok, some never learnt,

                       my box of collectables...
so many little lies in my box..

I saved my ladies a lifetime of lies,
    and I have a reminder that some men
                             are worthless...
  

but some are just out for a some fun,
         just like me....

— The End —