Wrote my lover a sonnet
Read one line and she was covered in *****
She hates my poetry
She complains it doesn’t pay for groceries
Won’t let me glaze her ovaries when I say the grossest things
She makes me pray the rosary

Get back
You need a tic tac
Every time your lips flap, I’m convinced that I sniff ***
Bet you spit plaque

In a game of inches, training makes the difference between clanks and swishes
Receive praise and kisses, fame and riches
Or a tainted image, cane and stitches

Got tricked, no treat, now my mouth is clean
A twisted deed to give Listerine on Halloween
I know she can afford Reeses and Kit Kats
I’ll torch feces in dish rags
Leave it on her porch and record the greedy witch gag

I have a face not even my mother could love
She complains I’m the ugliest son
She never mustered a hug
In public I’m shunned
She says nobody can tell my mug from a ****
And that people will shudder and run, unable to stomach their lunch unless I cover it up

Cocky ****** will suffer consequences
If they’re talking **** and don’t hop the fences
Doesn’t matter if they have a squad with weapons
They’ll drop in seconds
They’ll be taught a lesson that’ll leave their doctor stressin’
When they get knocked senseless by a barrage of fists that’d leave pro boxers breathless

The streets were consumed with panic
The fumes were rancid, puke was rampant
I pooped my pants and almost doomed the planet
The stench of the crap messed up the map
Cut Earth’s census in half
The military only offered a deal to spare me
For the skill to bury after I eat a meal with dairy

He only needs one arm
If you’re unarmed
You’ll need a good luck charm to be unharmed
He can pack a punch that’ll make you yack your lunch
Unless you’re the fastest runner or blasting guns, keep your yapper shut
Might be in a casket once his wrath is done

Raids and sirens
Nobody safe or vibrant
Slaves of science, **** or violence
Graves are pilin’
Offer praise or silence under the crazy tyrant

I’m only a geek in image
When I eat my spinach, an increase in fitness
Then I can make a demon grimace
Have it *** its britches
Needing stitches after getting beaten witless
Though most just become a ceased existence
My fights are violent
This time it’s birds and stars from the tire iron
Many burns and scars from the prior sirens
The doc’s shocked I can still stand, caught in jams
I’ve been popped and slammed, hit with pots and pans
Shot with glocks and cannons
Bombs and banana peels, even dropped off canyons
I’ve been flattened with a Range Rover
And blasted with a flame thrower
Whether I’m bold or insane,
I never fold from the pain
Even with bullet holes in my brain
Next foe I scuffle, I’ll put an anvil in a pie and throw it in his face
Put his **** on a mantle and pridefully show it to my mates

He’s a scrooge who boozes away
Neutered and chained by a beautiful dame who reduces his pay
While his kids become manure brained playing computer games
His wife gave him bliss and love, but he called her “*****” and “****”
He hasn’t sniffed her **** or been kissed in months
She spits in his muffins and chicken and dumplings
And prefers hickeys and ******* from a bigger **** than her husbands’

Groggy and sick with coughing fits
She wobbled and tripped and lost her wits
A costly kiss after coffee sipped
Only time before her body’s stiff
Got his missus seeing death
How much of an effect is Listerine or Crest
When he can split the sea by breath?

Only a geek in image
When he eats his spinach, an increase in fitness
He can make a demon grimace
If it doesn’t become a ceased existence
He’ll have it *** its britches
Needing stitches after getting beaten witless

Didn’t wanna scrap but you were too lax with your words
Now your slacks smell like a laxative served
Scavengers lurk
Will you gasp for a nurse before a nap in the dirt?