"adulterer" poems
...Short partings do best, though: time wears out affections,
The absent love fades, a new one takes its place.
With Menelaus away, Helen's disinclination for sleeping
Alone led her into her guest's
Warm bed at night. Were you crazy, Menelaus?
Why go off leaving your wife
With a stranger in the house? Do you trust doves to falcons,
Full sheepfolds to mountain wolves?
Here Helen's not at fault, the adulterer's blameless -
He did no more than you, or any man else,
Would do yourself. By providing place and occasion
You precipitated the act. What else did she do
But act on your clear advice? Husband gone; this stylish stranger
Here on the spot; too scared to sleep alone -
Oh, Helen wins my acquittal, the blame's her husband's:
All she did was take advantage of a man's
Human complaisance. And yet, more savage than the tawny
Boar in his rage, as he tosses the maddened dogs
On lightening tusks, or a lioness suckling her unweaned
Cubs, or the tiny adder crushed
By some careless foot, is a woman's wrath, when some rival
Is caught in the bed she shares. Her feelings show
On her face. Decorum's flung to the wind, a maenadic
Frenzy grips her, she rushes headlong off
After fire and steel... .
3.4k
She described me as Tom Buchanan.
She immediately said that I wasn't violent like him,
but that I could easily be him...
I could easily show his side.
I could be brutish and abusive
and dishonest and an adulterer
and greedy and pretentious.
I could be all of those things so easily.
It's as if a switch goes off in my brain that says,
***"Hey, let's be an ******* today."***
I don't want to be.
I don't want to be seen as Tom Buchanan.
I don't want to be the man who hurts so many
and truly loves so few.
I want to be so much more than that.
I don't necessarily want to be like Daisy or Jordan or Myrtle or Nick or
even like Gatsby himself.
I want to be like myself.
I want to be the girl that I'm meant to be
and I know that I am not right now
nor have I been for quite some time.
I just want to be the woman God made me to be and
I'm tired of being such a catastrophe in the making and
for ruining and hurting those around me.
I don't want to be that girl.
I don't want to be like Tom Buchanan.
I want to be me...
The real me.
...who am I?
Mar 3, 2016
Mar 3, 2016 at 3:36 PM UTC
The Poet is the language,the mystery of Monalisa's smile,
the brush of Caravaggio and the finest painting of Vangogh.
The Poet is the sonnet of Mozart anf the symphony of Bach,
a tragedy of Shakespeare and the saddest verse of Pablo Neruda.
The Poet is the blue Danube in waltz and the Swan Lake in Ballet.
The Poet is the renaissance of passion and the remnant of life,
the dilemma of morality,the shadow of deed,and the ombra of sin.
The Poet is the fantasy of each Sunrise and the illusion of every Sunset,
the wave in tide of wishes,carried in a bottle to dune drunk shore.
The Poet is the believer, dream lover in a hot passionate crazy affair,
the magician who creates fables and fairytales from a deadly reality.
The Poet is the worker who works and works to survive,to cope in this
demanding,sophisticated,stigmatic concrete hypocratic world.
The Poet is the thief of time,with eyes flutterin on late nights,
Still loyal to the pen,His thoughts in verse,bleedin fragranted words.
The Poet is an Omnipotent servant,with a will to ask and crave to learn.
A Philosopher,whose always an amateur in the pursuit of wisdom.
The Poet is an eternal slave of His Muse,the beverage of inspiration,
the spouse married to literature,adulterer of lyric,deceiver of prose.
He Knows no lapsus in all that is scandalous,royalty or sacred.
He is the artist, musician, actor,the clairvoyant of destined paths.
He is the cheap clay's mold,carved in the sculpture of the next century.
The Poet is the unfinished book,the chapter in yesterday,
He is the Nobody of today and the bookmark of tomorrow.
T H E POET IS YOU ! ! !
Nov 6, 2010
Nov 6, 2010 at 10:29 PM UTC
"You know, what the most annoying thing is?"
Stacking box, after box, after box
in her empty-floored home.
"What?"
"Knowing how," stack, "lost," stack, "I'll be."
She drops to a box, face in hands. ******* it."
What do you say
To the widow of an adulterer,
To the crier of sorrows
you've never known?
"I'm sorry."
******* it, you're sorry. Everyone's sorry."
What do you say to all the bitterness
of a woman stacking, stacking, stacking
The boxes of her new life?
I sit on the divan by the window. "What do you want
me to say?" I ask.
Naive.
**** I don't know." Sighing. "Say you know
He really loved me
And that even though I'm just your pain-in-the-ass
broken-hearted
and stupid older sister,
who's made too many mistakes to count,
and who's never ever been there when you need her
because she's too busy with her
piece-of-shit
******* accident
of a husband,
you really love me too."
Looking up at me
with tear-swimming
mascara-ringed green eyes
under a black fringe
of artistic bangs.
"Of course I really love you." The automaton of my voice.
"You're my only sister."
Tears falling onto
white velvet wrists.
"I really miss him.
That *******
If only
he hadn't been
the adulterer
With me.
Oct 22, 2011
Oct 22, 2011 at 10:41 AM UTC
You’re a liar
You’re a cheat
You’re everything
She doesn’t need
She’s so stupid
She’s so gullible
To believe you
To believe your lies
Fool me once
Shame on you
Fool me twice
Shame on me
I’m so stupid
I’m so naïve
I believed that
You made her happy
All I see now
Is unfaithful lies
All I see now
Is her tear-stricken eyes
Fool me once
Shame on you
Fool me twice
Shame on me
Nov 18, 2011
Nov 18, 2011 at 8:22 PM UTC
Dear Adulterer
the present is the only girl worth living
for in her bed is where you
always are
time brings about the decay of perfection
always,
breathe
and lend half a knee to the ground
to send naked prayers to the sky
for wifi—
we are supposed
to be our ancestor’s sci-fi.
Jan 8, 2016
Jan 8, 2016 at 4:07 PM UTC
Too thrilled by the case,
Sherlock just disappears,
To begin with a chase,
John is let alone,
To get a cab, and go to Baker St. .
But wait- wherever he goes,
The telephone booth starts ringing!
He waits for somebody to pick up,
And continues to walk;
The third booth starts ringing,
The caller must be desperate to talk.
A black, shiny car,
Pulls over for John to ride,
The destination seemed far,
In this conversation-less hour.
"Anthea", answered the accompanying secretary,
When asked her name,
Fake it was,
Absolutely.
The anxiety was over,
John was confronted by a well-dressed man,
Who offered him money, to spy,
The guy, who deduced Watson's army background,
By his tan.
The "arch-enemy" of Sherlock,
As he introduced himself,
Told John about his psychosomatic disorder,
"You are back in the game,
You don't fear danger,
You've missed this lifestyle."
True it was,
Pretty much,
"Could be dangerous", wrote Sherlock,
And there he was dashing into 221B.
Sherlock was quite disappointed,
When he got to know about the declination,
Of that tempting offer,
"Pity, we could've split the fee",
He suggested John for the next time.
Isn't Mr. Holmes quite irksome,
Calling John from the other end of London,
Just to send a text?
No, this was not an ordinary text,
An SMS was just sent,
By Mr. Watson's phone,
To the murderer.
The murderer?
But why?!
Elementary for SH.
Found the case within an hour,
Which was now in front him.
His mind, is truly above par!
One thing missing from the suitcase:
Her organizer, her phone.
"Nah, she's is a clever woman,
A serial adulterer,
Would never leave her phone at hotel",
This Holmes said, backed by balance of probability.
They waited at a restaurant,
And the wait was long,
But worth it.
Had to chase a taxi,
which was done successfully,
Thanks to Sherlock's excellent memory.
Hence proved it was,
The psychosomatic limb of Doctor.
A drugs bust had occurred at their place,
Seriously, this man, a deduction ****** would have drugs?
"I'm not a psychopath Anderson,
I'm a high functioning sociopath,
Do your research!"
Snapped Mr. Punchline.
Just a couple of minutes later,
This brilliant sleuth realized-
"Rachel! Yes, Rachel!
This woman in pink, Jennifer,
Is clever,
And she's dead!",
much to Mr. Holmes's displeasure.
Feb 2, 2016
Feb 2, 2016 at 12:24 PM UTC
the view
stands beneath
the carousel efforts
to blast through
impregnancy aBLOOM!!!!
(w)ith feral legacies
aligned intimately ornately
posthumous adulterer
awakens in need
of
****** corrective agency
towards Fenitbow
and Glightrovee ab-surd as
qua as qua
asqua aqua qua
a^s is trite melody infer[no]
t a x i yellowing each pavement
by truth in yo ' fa ' ' lo ((lo))
i by horns and turns
in plyable waves arrest
what justice juices
freel_y
obligatory
antecedent
quai noyh thlume
ye
HEaVY
Sep 26, 2020
Sep 26, 2020 at 6:17 AM UTC
I'm still caught up
In the faucets
Ive been brought up
My losses thought up
In loss-less
Fossils
soldering
The slaughter
Atop
An my inner adulterer
In the fodder
Of a ****
I am the will
Of my weakest link
Give me a shrink
To **** away at the sheets
Of freedom
Drink away the stink
Of freedom
You cant free them
Cant believe them
Cant be them
Just retrieve them
From this life
Deceive them
To the knife
Bleed them
From the heights
Of ego
Let em flow
To never
In the blight
Of severed stems
With sedatives
And seduction
Isolate the malfunctions
Of my internal combustion's
Busting in
Annihilation
Of the problem
Manifestation
Of the solemn
In columns of regret
Inscribed across my chest
Blessed with contempt
For the clause
Unmindful of the laws
And stalled
I will stand
Where you fall
And call
To myself
From the stealth
Of broken homes
And hungry dogs
I am the fog
Of arson
The discontent
Of the larceny
Of the peasants
I'm blessed in the curses
Of burnt
Churches
But in worse ways
Im versed
In aversive
Silence
Dispersed
In cursive slices
I realise this
Is
The decisive
Moment
In which i wake
For the sake
Of procreation
Infection
Of a system
Convection
Of a prison
Citizen
Of a religion
Under taxation
To live in it
I'm illiterate to the
Commonalities
I cant depict
the squiggled lines
Its a tragic comedy
Giggling to the rhyme
I think it is
Perfection
At its peak
Pulp for the weak
Its neat!
I cant tell
If i am half awake
Or half asleep
But text is cheap
So i bleed
On screens
But dont mean
A thing
In dreamless
States
Dec 9, 2012
Dec 9, 2012 at 4:42 PM UTC
The age of men and women
Taking grand heroic action
Or making small significant gestures
Which changed the world
Are over.
Enter the age of indifference
Failing economics
And aging alcoholics
Dot the skyline
Of forclosures
And reposessions
Where once stood
Raised Fists
We ignored the warnings
The unemployment rate
Rises faster than global warming
Al Gore is an adulterer
Another inconvenient truth
Lining the landscape of sephulchre
Failing motivation
Spreads like an infectuous disease
And e-mails to God go unanswered
Replaced by homicidal tendency
The philosophers and writers
Visionaries and fighters
Have all been diagnosed with
Social disorder
And put on lithium
The public would rather watch
The latest news on the off-shore drilling Moratorium
Its just getting boring.
The smallest voice has ceased to be listened
So instead of pulling out my hair
I resign to not care
And stopped acting like it makes a difference.
Jul 12, 2010
Jul 12, 2010 at 7:41 PM UTC
The parliament is dissolved they said
Elections within two months they said
Don’t vote for the other side they said
The other side is corrupted they said
The incumbent is a liar, thief and adulterer they said
The other guy will pawn the country they said
They said they will give us money
And avail cheap food, education and medical
They said they know what they’re doing
They’ve been doing it for many years
It’s funny how they say a lot of things
Some very nasty, not fit for learned people
I just hope it doesn’t rain, so i can do my rounds
I just hope they buy my bread, buns and snacks
When six o’clock comes!
Apr 3, 2013
Apr 3, 2013 at 1:29 AM UTC
“Love: an emotion, one that, so low as to bar
From fair desire—self-righteous and self-serving
Excuse, a pretense, lyric, will not inspire.”
I detest to hear him speak—
Adulterer, why, pray tell, do you prey upon the weak?
“Simple in answer, as simple in method. No heart
Rich needs to beat for “that” emotion obsoletes.
Adults, mature, do not even think the distinction
That is kid’s table morality, what mommy
Only says after a few drinks, winking, your father
In his eyes—just where you have come, in fact—
You needn’t think mommy and daddy stayed together
After long spats, strife, and frustration for their waves
Struck the same height or the moon hits mom just right.
It is not the eternal enthrallment of Eros that keeps them in motion
Dear, friend—it is “that” emotion. In bed, hearts
Are inverted and split down the middle
The negative just drowns away in chemicals.
But how bad we’d feel, (no?) if that, the long and short?
Machinate the “thing” justify “that” feeling
Ennobling, beatifying, kindling for sonnets and odes
Fashioning morality and aesthetics onto sweating
Thrusting beasts, one on one in their dance of love.
A harlequin of truth, my friend! When it is found
In contraception, safeguarding our natural predilection.
Ha! Oh, fools! Why trouble with the rituals
When, really, ****** collocations concern capricious
Chronologies and covetous craving for **** and ****
How ****** How crude! But, oh, but oh how true; think:
Admit the urge has primacy, the “L” emerges and
Lies emitted: of connection, intelligence, intersubjectivity.
Given its stage of farce and face, our sieves are at
Ageful capacity and then needs a bargain, more;
The office of “thing” goes unoccupied, its twin
Will gladly keep it clean and orderly, act
As it did: gentle and cordially.”
Blast it! Such ways in truth and walk, for
Repetition in faith of life
Pegs my myths with all their strife,
Strife and succor irony.
Sep 30, 2014
Sep 30, 2014 at 11:48 PM UTC
1.
My name is Delilah, how may I help you?
You were blinded by my grace.
You always saw hints of my betrayal.
My friends made it clear to you that I was a
hairdresser.
I cut off your hair an inch every night.
You saw it coming.
You did.
But I'd never cut all your hair off.
2.
Rule number one: Do not get attached.
Do not kiss on the mouth; you'll get attached.
Just because he took your innocence, doesn't mean him not wanting to marry you
(, him not wanting to kiss you anymore
or him not loving you,)
is a good enough reason to cry.
3.
He treats you like a child, yet he expects you to not be clingy, be needy or cry.
He demand you not to hug another boy
(not even your friends),
yet complains you're too desperate for affection.
4.
Prince Charming has a thing for little girls.
Stop being so mature for your age.
5.
Prince Eric has a thing for older women.
Stop being so immature, you're not a child anymore.
6.
Perfection has a girlfriend.
Perfection loved you.
Perfection tastes your wine and lingers on tip of your lips.
Perfection caresses your ******* and whispers sonnets into your ear.
Perfection goes back to his girlfriend.
7.
Leave him.
Leave him.
Scream out "Hallelujah!"
Leave him.
Go back to your Lord.
Leave him.
You stand next to him.
He looks at you as if you aren't there.
Leave him.
His hand touched the handles and not you.
Leave him.
You look at him.
Leave him.
You burn your bible.
You stop praying.
Leave him.
You kiss him, and you no longer think of your Saviour.
Leave him.
You have a new god to worship.
Leave your new god.
Leave him.
Leave him.
Leave him.
You stay.
8.
Your messiah burns your heartache into your wrists as the gospels kisses the flames.
Princes, perfection and new found gods are all weak in front of the All Mighty,
but strong in front of your naive, delusional heart.
There is no more room left for God until you leave him.
But you won't leave him.
9.
My name is Delilah.
I am not a prophet.
10.
My name is Delilah, how may I help you?
Oct 4, 2014
Oct 4, 2014 at 7:12 PM UTC
The cancer ate my sister's heart,
her liver, her bones,
and now I'm alone
with my sick-stomached guilt
and my never-told confession.
Remember, we were younger. Our neighbor's sister
came home with a ****** nose and you turned to me,
"What would you do if that was me?"
6 year old certainty, "I'd **** them,"
swelling with 6 year old bravado,
"I'd ****
anyone
who hurt you."
Our mother was appalled and our father told me not to say things I didn't mean, but
I meant it then.
And sweetheart, I mean it now.
I can't **** the cancer, because it's already killed you.
I can't **** the husband, because he's already dead
(left you widowed and heartbroken, my only sister,
and I am to blame).
And so I'm standing here, looking at the
jagged-box-shaped rocks so far far far below,
and I'm thinking
(stacking box, after box, after box
in her empty-floored apartment),
and I'm wishing
(to the crier of sorrows I've never known)
and I'm breathing
(if only he hadn't been the adulterer)
and I'm jumping
(with me).
Jan 12, 2012
Jan 12, 2012 at 4:52 PM UTC
I love you
irrationally, without reason,
And no matter how I try to cure myself
of you,
My eye stays drawn to the outline
Of your worn face and dissonant mind,
Your flaws that remind me that
We are all human—
I shouldn’t love you with this
hemmed up heart
I’ve let you destroy,
then sew back
so carelessly together
So that every stich, every oozing
Drop of messy adhesive keeping me
was by you.
And there is no rational reason
I should still love you,
and not the man who has not the heart
to ever intend the slightest of sin…
The pale angel who never deserved
some dysfunctional adulterer ,
who remains drawn to the dark and hateful
lust, of her favorite demon.
And perhaps us sinners deserve eachother;
I’ve grown to watch you live off of ***** by the
bottle and your abused old guitar—
And never could I pull myself together to fit
my shattered edges of disarray
into the blunt puzzle of their world.
They decry us in the absurdity
of our very existence,
A drunk and a misfit, children of a lesser
creation, as we stand against the bitter winds of hate.
Nov 16, 2011
Nov 16, 2011 at 9:27 PM UTC
You elected a crazy person
For most of the offices.
You applauded a dictator.
And that is just what he is.
You cheered for a proven liar.
And failed to fact check him.
You voted for a misogynist
And against all of the women.
You elected a bankrupter
To handle all of our money.
You voted for an adulterer.
And seem to find that funny.
You voted for a cheat and liar
And ignored the facts against him.
You trusted a major swindler
Won’t vote him back to the pig pen.
You pretended he was a businessman
When his businesses mostly failed.
You ignored all his crimes in office
When he should have been jailed.
You made your stupid excuses
And stayed home instead of voting.
You listened to Fox and Breitbart;
Shared the crap they were quoting.
May 25, 2017
May 25, 2017 at 6:30 PM UTC
I breathe You in.
I take a deep breath and Your presence fills me.
You are beautiful. Masterful.
Awesome. Worthy of praise.
Holy.
Your grace moves me to tears.
I am so undeserving. You love me anyway.
How could I ask for anything more?
But You've given me so much more!
Peace! Joy! Blessings uncountable! Songs to sing! Family! Friends!
Forgiveness.
The greatest gift of all, given freely to me.
A sinner.
A blasphemer. An adulterer. A liar.
A lazy, prideful woman.
You see through all the sin to the woman You created me to be:
A mighty woman of God, with faith as unwavering as the rising Sun.
You are my rock. My foundation.
My Redeemer. My Lord.
Jan 8, 2013
Jan 8, 2013 at 3:51 AM UTC
TIMID, Quitter, loser, liar, fake, LOVER, daydreamer, schemer, DOWN TO EARTH, lazy, cold, selfish, corrupt, COMEDIAN, addict, abuser, shallow, BIG HEARTED, ugly, hater, user, BRAVE, deciever, GIVER, opportunist, betrayer, CREATIVE, self-centered, HELPFULL, con-artist, chicken, idiot, SHY, nagger, THOUGHTFUL, crybaby, actor, HONEST, cheater, adulterer, crazy, AMBITIOUS.
Oct 8, 2014
Oct 8, 2014 at 4:18 PM UTC
Dancing, spinning in the dark,
Catching glimpses of reality
But always retreating
Happily settling
Into comforting ignorance
Believing in daydreams
Delighted in fantasies
Swept up in someone else’s love
Never deserving, always wanting
Insatiable appetite for desire
Crashing, falling we let it go
Moments of desire, guilt and joy
Mingle and melt like uncountable tears
Hastily brushed away
From an ever cheerful face
Hiding the secrets, Hiding the lies
My tiny escapes define me
We dance together
For better for worse
Forever entwined your heart and mine
As I smile upon your saddened face, the dance begins again.
Aug 24, 2010
Aug 24, 2010 at 5:16 PM UTC
When I see your letters
Scarlett or otherwise
I can’t help but think
Of Hester Pryne
Marked, and tarnished
The same way I see you
They tell me
To avoid at all costs
The refuse of humanity
Wears these letters
Not A for Adulterer
Maybe ΔΡ for Date ******
ΣΔ, Excessive Drinker?
I don’t know
And I don’t intend on finding out.
Mar 14, 2010
Mar 14, 2010 at 10:03 AM UTC
I was never an adulterer,
I did **** myself over,
And ****** alone;
But the "A" that keeps sticking
Is as prominent as Hester's.
I was never an abuser,
But I can do a real fine job on myself;
And then the guilt sets in,
Like a hard-packed snowbank,
And I need to get the shovel.
That amber-coloured "A"
Always leads to the stairs of shame
I climb like my cross;
Then lie in state
Until the resurrection.
Dec 5, 2015
Dec 5, 2015 at 11:42 AM UTC
Your will is change
You give life to Your own words
Just hearing them
reading them on the page
speaking them
lifts the veil
to know that there is love
that is beyond measure
but can be seen in sacrifice
in resurrection
in sharing glory with people who didn't love you
You call me worthy, so I am worthy
You love so gently
you don't force it
I want to love You
I do love You
keep showing me how to love
I want your presence close
thick and full
dripping wet
because it is poured over me
undignified
as you made Yourself
I will love You
Boldly
as You declared love
I will declare it
You keep blessing beyond a heavenly seat
what love that You are only a breath away!
I will breathe
inhale the sweet smoke of Your fire
and exhale a windstorm
You affect the way I think
because You softened my heart
I am married to this,
beautiful
overwhelming
liberating love
How could I even think of divorcing something in my blood?
When the adulterer comes,
trying to make me question -
"What about the hard times?"
The goodness is coming!
"What about when you feel lonely?"
I am not what I feel; love is ever present!
"What about...
NO! Stop lying!
Nothing stops goodness!
Nothing keeps me from His love!
Praise God!
Even when the adulterer tries to lure me away,
I know where my home is found.
It is a breath away.
Inhale
Exhale
FIRE, FIRE, FIRE!!!
burning love forever!
my heart burns for You
we are deep in this cave
the molten fire builds
let it burn!
let it burn!
You burn for every part of me
You are the torch and fire
the torch touches every corner of me
the flames lick up
igniting everything
love sends up a sweet smoke
holy fire burn
forever
burn away the past
burn away the unbelief
the lies
the pain
the heart ache
the fire burns it all away
and leaves nothing but love
How can fire be so reassuring?
It scares me, but it's good
I would be a fool not to touch it
it makes me better
the past is ashes now
floating away in the wind
Jan 25, 2018
Jan 25, 2018 at 9:18 PM UTC
You’re beautiful
I slept with your best friend
I can’t stop thinking about you
No one knows you exist
Will you meet my parents?
My friends are oblivious
Be with me always
I cheat on you mercilessly
Marry me
I’m an adulterer
Jun 6, 2012
Jun 6, 2012 at 11:45 PM UTC
Don't Tell Me What to Do !
Just a humorous look at the ten commandments!
Handed down biblical tablets,
Telling us what not to do!
Not sure if they apply to you!
Message was I'm not to steal,
Or so the bible said,
Have no money left today,
Will starve and end up dead,
Out of sight's not out of mind,
Not sure what else to do,
Steal a sandwich,
One or maybe two!
Which I would never do!
See nothing funny,
Commandment two,
Thou shalt not ****
With this commandment,
I hereby concur with you!
Worship no-one human,
In this our mortal world of sin,
If God exists there's only one,
So let his will be done!
To make a graven image ,
Is a phoney,
Misdemeanour,
Wee mischief,
Does that include a photograph?
Maybe does,
So Moses said!
Depends interpretation,
*** I hear you say,
You took his name in vain,
Not such a great thing to say,
Within this Godly game!
Mother, mother where's my tea,
Get it now,
Get it for me,
Little honour left these days,
Sure it's there a bit,
Unfound unnoticed,
It beats me!
You married once,
Hoped for life,
What went wrong,
Found someone,
Another's husband,
Or someone else's wife,
With this statement I agree,
But don't stay if unhappy,
Steal not another's mate,
A cheating heart,
Well that ain't great!
In Adulterer's Bible, sixteen hundred and thirty one,
A misprint, stated errors, sated,
'Thou shalt commit adultery'
A.K.A, The Wicked Bible!
Thought this was really rather funny!
Steal lies and nothing else,
When stolen just discard them,
Gossip not,
Keep phantom stories to yourself,
Enough muck and lies in field of life,
Without them further spreading!
Take nothing from your neighbours,
Without their prior permission,
You may not want to love them,
Take them to your heart or care,
We all have human needs you do declare,
That one day you may need them there!
Some of these are mixed together,
In one almighty mess!
By ladylivvi1
© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
May 27, 2013
May 27, 2013 at 4:27 AM UTC
My boredom had turned to a pill
Which had made my mind quite ill
I picked up a bat
Killed that old cat
And I leaped from my window sill
Oh what a sweet loving wife
That picked up the kitchen knife
With a flick of her hand
My neck it did land
Ending an adulterer's life
...And my marital strife
Apr 1, 2013
Apr 1, 2013 at 2:50 PM UTC