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H Nair Sep 2014
The grog's half full
n the tucker nerly done
I head to my ol' man house
Lost me job last month

The ol' man listened to the yarn neatly spun
Ignored the pleas from his grown boy's mum
Give him some, help his family run
no he said, let him stick to his ***
A decent job and a bright prospect he had
Ruined it all for tipple n fun

...He tottered on past his prime
wouldn't last much longer he thought n sighed
The bar beckoned him once more
Dragging his feet he entered the place
Pr'olly the only home he he felt safe
Downing in his drink he obscured
The deep rut he endured
Work in Progress...
Micheal Wolf Mar 2013
Pour myself another drink
I should stop writing and denounce HP
It has become a voice to my nightly brain fever
More serious disease than syphilis
As it eats away at my brain
I suspect in much the same way
In past a vent for the toxic thoughts off divorce
Preoccupied in bitter tears and hatred
Not seeing its healing potential till now
A display of my emotion
Sometimes intense yet so often lost to others
A soap box of parody that hid a broken heart
An inverse playground of my deepest fears
In that it has many swings and roundabouts
Of love, for others here
Some home so long since gone
Dealings with grief and loss of substance
My family
Now seems like a wrecking ball formed verse when re read
Others I cannot see where I was in my head
Lights on yet not at home
The words don't fit now
I thought STOP!
Delete
But that would be failed testament to myself.
The gin now speaks not me (metaphoric as drinking Bundaberg Guava as good for the kidneys and to wash down my acidophIlus tablets just to clear up that I'm not a wino!)
A bottle opened to embrace
Odd as I can't remember when I last loaded
More so on a school night
I was told to look in not omit myself by helping others
Give me some me time
I have time
I dwell, cogitate to detriment and find no solution
So Yes may be his answer and his inner solace
It is not yet for me.
Goodnight Mrs Kalabash see you in St Louis
There's Bundaberg ginger beer in your Bundaberger ear!
γ„₯ε·₯βˆ¨γƒ’ long time. Eat food. No die.
Travis Green Dec 2022
I wanna feel your glorious victorious pole in my soul
Keen avenging dream lover, wicked broad charmer
I adore your magically flaming rareness
Your increasingly glistening and thrilling virility
Your marvelously legendary perfection mesmerizes me so

Your masculineness is of immeasurable value
Irresistible unrepeatable exquisiteness
You are my favorite fragrant infatuation
I wanna drown in your momentousness
Your all-consuming pulchritudinous irrefutableness
Feel the way you jam your monster-crushing hammer
In my moist treasure box, shut down my radiant rainbow residency

Venerate my blazing hot breathtaking beauty
Gaze at the way my thick *** cheeks clap
How you caress and spread my legs
Super dreamy tender Prince Charming
Put my picturesque pristine kingdom
In an inexpressible and perplexing trance

Shake up my guts, rub my full, voluptuous jugs
Hunt through my heartland for my smashing, soft sweetness
Inhale my delightfully ****** scent
Plant your wild masculine hands
All over my evocatively enthralling body

Behold and take control of my eternally
Intriguing ***** hole, give me a *****
Make me pre-***, drink me down
Like fragrant Haitian ***, like Bundaberg ginger beer
Part my inner world, finger **** my wet juice box

Confuse me, ****** me, soothe my thoughts and feelings
Press your wonderfully **** body against mine
Pump me harder, cause me to perspire and shudder
Marvel at your astronomical and unconquerable architecture
Your divine, king-size chest, your galactic jacked abs
Your industrious, loving arms, your fiercely beardazzling beard

I get a load of your overly potent dopeness
Your strongly metallic majesty, how your dark dancing eyes
Shine in my bright sight, an ardent disarming star attraction
Give me the greatest slam-bang *******
Make top-notch three-pointers in my core
Destroy my backdoor, give me a cracking protein splash

— The End —