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#daft
Time will tell but who will it tell and what will it tell and why Time will fly but where is it going what will it do there and why Time is a great healer but who is it healing how does it do it and why Time waits for no man why is it so impatient who is the slow man what will he do when time has gone Only time will tell so we better wait for an explanation.
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Jul 10, 2025
Jul 10, 2025 at 2:48 PM UTC
Time knows
A little daft in the head She said, she said, So many things I tried to Squeeze it All In my head Oh, How I Did
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Oct 20, 2023
Oct 20, 2023 at 2:01 AM UTC
Talk to Me
The Poet of the World Has nothing to lose, but their chains Poets of the World unite! Thanks Groucho! © Robert Porteus
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Dec 12, 2021
Dec 12, 2021 at 5:52 AM UTC
Poets! - haiku
End of it all End of it all? The end of it all What end of it all!? The man had a fall! That end of it all The man had a fall? What man had a fall? The man down the hall That man had a fall The man down the hall? What man down the hall? The man down the hall Who works at the mall He was an oddball The man had a fall Down there he is sprawled Down there he is sprawled Down where is he sprawled? Down where is he sprawled? At the end of the hall The end with the stairs as i recall Oh that man down the hall He WAS an oddball ...Oh **** The man's had a fall!!! Have the police been called?
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Apr 2, 2020
Apr 2, 2020 at 12:12 PM UTC
Drama
Alfredo Alfresco was born In tesco's, Right by the self service Checkout. It's an act from beyond. (God's always been, well, A bit peroxide blonde) As to why,we haven't Enough much information To say. After all, meanings can Move in a mysterious way.
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May 14, 2018
May 14, 2018 at 5:29 PM UTC
Alfredo Alfresco
When you knock the side of your head, Is anyone home? Or is the only response That dull echo? As dull and as thick as the ******* who owns it Buys his comments from others, yeah you loan it You know it's ****** how I can't even be myself In virtual reality without being picked on by someone else?! Do I really threaten you by being an up-and-comer? Do you run home to your basement, just to tell your mother? ******* your thumb and ******* cousins to forget your troubles But it never works, I'm always here, you daft ************ I'm a mother ******* ghost and I'mma haunt your soul Turn stupidity to comedy and swallow it all whole Make it fresh content, regardless of the consequence Til you leave me alone, ****** and let me be myself! You know nothing about me, do they call you Jon Snow? You know nothing ***** so pack your bags and catch the last bus home You're just embarrassing yourself, you're a laughing stock Look at all the comments I made telling you to go **** yourself! Do you see me now, huh? Am I what you expected? That "woof ***** who by being himself got himself rejected? Why can't you appreciate others man, and stop being your lack of brains' slave And give this **** up before I contemplate digging your grave
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Jul 4, 2016
Jul 4, 2016 at 6:13 PM UTC
As Thick as Woody
Oh my dear Hubcap ! for you I fear! Laying here; resting on a roadside, Torn from your kin. Subject to mother nature's weatherly whim. Your once grey metallic reflective brilliance, turned dour by creeping oxidisation. That fate gave a deliberate curse is clear. Oh my dear Hubcap! for you I fear!
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Apr 19, 2016
Apr 19, 2016 at 4:11 PM UTC
About a Hubcap
Bazooka that veruka Wage war on your warts Charge the canons against corns  And ills of other sorts Conscript regiments of Rennies Antacid to supress indigestion  Establish naval fleets   Of fisherman friends sweets  To banish nasal congestion smear your chest with Vick To ensure victory is quick And if headaches ensue Aspirin will win and subdue If your enemy is constipation Let  senna be your friend  And if your throat is sore Let strepsils make swift amends  Show viruses they're not  welcome Fight back with all your might Give germs no easy terms And soon you'll feel alright!
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Aug 3, 2014
Aug 3, 2014 at 8:44 PM UTC
Battlefront
Your colors are so heavy, how dare I, I cannot sleep. Years inundated under, through skin coils, marigold fields. Yellow crocuses, orange California poppies. Moors of cattle ranchers, yokes of oxen. Plasticine uber-confidence, silky white-skinned testubular thrice people harmonies. Blisses of contagion, contagious bliss. Wrists and incisors, tying down in a bedroom, waking up to live harps and choruses. You dance like you're so alive, but I'm so alive I can't dance. Or breathe. Or knead my fists of earthen wears, or sell my soul completely. I drove off a cliff last night, but the four foot fall ended neatly. The plateau authors my chance to sew my bright, beyond- my fortunes. But the hour before I fall asleep, seems to be the greatest torture.
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Apr 26, 2014
Apr 26, 2014 at 4:54 AM UTC
good night moon
A display of deft actions is only so good up to that hour of realization after a hostile event of failure that any more such efforts will go in vain and would surely cause remorseful tears to escape from your dark pearly eyes in future So be deft enough to study well but don't be daft enough buddy mouth gaping stupidly at all the results having gone awry later...
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Apr 3, 2014
Apr 3, 2014 at 5:31 AM UTC
Deft/Daft