"pedophiles" poems
You ***** need to stop I'm sorry for hurting your feelings I'm not the one that usually disrespects humans faith and love for something that doesn't even exist - I mean that I believe doesn't exist but you can still live you've got your feelings hurt but thousands of us can not longer hold on or have stopped living - 68 percent of us to be precise have met you speakers telling beautiful stories about saving and love but let your eyes meet ours and you'll have a cemetery party with champagne and cake for my people that unfortunatly met you - so called followers of everything that's right too many of us asked for acceptance nobody wants acceptance anymore after you've hurt people over some old book pushing things on us we're not just don't be ignorant it makes your mind look so small for a person with such a big mouth that normally shouts leviticus twenty:thirdteen those are the numbers numbers we already read, heard have screamed while overdosing on pain,blood and touch by you pedophiles that treat us like some dust trust me too many of us know and won't come back so bring them back climb your way to your heaven and ask like the angel you are -father is killing your youth right?
~.V.~
Jun 7, 2015
Jun 7, 2015 at 2:01 PM UTC
The blood in my ****** runs on the pure waters of the river
The blood in my ****** smells rotten like the person who ***** her
The blood of my life runs on the white of the cloud ...
The blood in my ****** smells like the baby I abhorred
The blood in my ****** smells like the curse of being a woman in the world without equality
The blood in my ****** smells like the mouths of women stifling rights
The blood in my ****** smells like ***** girls
The one of my life smells bad like the men who force their daughters to marry
The blood in my ****** smells like *** of ****** exploitation
The blood in my ****** smells bad like pedophiles.
The blood in my ****** smells the future. The blood in my ****** is female liberation.
Jun 4, 2019
Jun 4, 2019 at 11:50 AM UTC
I'm a poet, beatboxer,
Gamer, Expert procrastinator
Hated
Loved
But not loved by you apparently.
You
Who sits behind the screen like a little *****
Makes your profile private
So I can't respond to things like
"Exactly what I'd expect a 16 year old little ***** to say"
You only make me mad by your nature
Probably a 50 year-old ********* and troll
Who gets off by taunting younger ones
Because he's too much of a **** to pick on someone
His own size and age,
Having no friends or relatives that love him
Nobody that respects the ******* he is
Probably does drugs
Dropped out of school the year he learnt the word ****
Didn't follow much of a lifestyle
Blew kids off for twenty bucks
I mean, money is money
Shares his mothers basement with twelve cousins,
Male and female,
That he ***** on the daily
The only action he really gets
And when they aren't there
Climbs out of his trollhole
To **** with the wrong people
They call me Phoenix
Because I roast beats
And pedophiles
Like yourselves
You got a reaction
Question is,
Was it what you expected?
Jul 4, 2016
Jul 4, 2016 at 4:01 AM UTC
Things are quite rocky in today's world wouldn't you say?
Hate is growing stronger, as a consequence love is waxing cold day by day.
Celebrities are securing riches while the rest of the world succumbs into sickness.
Everyday Americans are going into foreclosure, others can't obtain jobs to pay their monthly dues. There's even a battle on the news based on who has the right to use a particular bathroom. Simultaneously there's millions of homeless people starving and sleeping on the streets.
Meanwhile it's breaking news that Beyonce is having twins!
Still, we never hear CNN mention the pedophiles that were arrested in California. Which resulted in 450+ arrests and counting, the veil has been lifted if you have open eyes to look.
There, there you can go back to sleep now... Continue dreaming about Beyonce's twins.
Feb 25, 2017
Feb 25, 2017 at 2:56 AM UTC
Some get that way by playing it safe,
memorizing mantras, righteously abiding by rules,
some get there by cutting seams,
lost in purposelessness, partaking of
ether, marijuana, alcohol, or anything
that's buzzy enough,
some find their sweepstakes in curls,
in fantasies, on the internet, or in the aftermath,
some claim the spoils, some gracefully accept
determination, some divorce their wives,
some happily raise their pulse to the heavy metals,
some review albums and cut down the ********
some write love stories for our grandmas,
our moms,
our ex-girlfriends,
some find it in politics, right winging, left winging, chicken winging,
some in bomb threats,
some find it in supremacy,
others in melting pots,
some cheer up over breakroom chitty-chats,
some in **** ***
some in sympathizing with pedophiles trapped in iron lungs,
some when they have hit the bottom rung,
some by rationalizing,
boosting themselves above half-wrongs,
to coast on the half-rights,
some by breaking up,
some by declaring war,
only to get discouraged, yet proud of the scars,
some kids dance to experimental music,
some write blogs about capitalism,
some find it kicking it with bitter vegans,
others while murdering their parents,
but everyone is a winner,
everyone is right,
everyone has earned the paycheck,
the vacation,
the **** wife,
and the key to eternal life.
Dec 16, 2010
Dec 16, 2010 at 8:03 AM UTC
*Our earth has turned
Our lives are torn
We are able to see light no more
If only for a second we shine bright
We are reminded of our destiny
That of which is death
We strive to survive
We strive to stay alive
Being surrounded with demons of flesh and bone
Demons who are torn
Tattered
Look defeated but are actually reborn
Reborn through blistering scorn they rise
Their numbers are growing
We do nothing for god is showing
Showing his hatred for our kind
Showing his secret and sacred mind
We scream
We cry
For he gives no sympathy
We scream
We die
For he gives no sympathy
They feast off our loved one's limb by limb
We hear their screams as he dies
As she dies
No goodbyes
Just demise
Torn eyes
Black skies
Reaching at us from above tearing our hope from our chest
Our dreams as we rest
Our lives as we suppress
Suppress who we once were
For that is no more
Only for so long can we hide our screams
We will be found
We will be desecrated
Piece by piece
Our mothers torn and brothers death through scorn
Our wives see blood and flesh before being reborn
Now one of them they fight it but only postpone
Postpone the inevitable
The inevitability of turning
Turning from who you once were to a demon
Your birthdays
Weddings
Memories become waist
As you see through the devils eyes you hunt to feast
Inoperational your emotions become
Through the eyes of evil you become ****
No way out
Our end has begun
Our god has given up
On our petty existence we call success
Given up on the killing
The thievery
The ****
The pedophiles
This is why we die
This is why black takes our sky
Why evil is now his ally
Why we are ripped apart before we depart into hell
We become the hatred we once rebelled
The hatred we once repelled
Your children ask you why
Ask you why we have to die
You look into their eyes knowing they will once too be deleted
Deleted from existence
The tattered flesh and blood is insistence
Insistence of his wrath
While we beg to his knees
He returns to his kin with this disease
This plague
This is why we hide
The conquering he takes with pride
Vague emotions to hell we ride*
***This rapture has become our end
This rapture has become our end***
-Joseph B Schneider
Dec 4, 2014
Dec 4, 2014 at 4:05 AM UTC
I hate ******
I hate racist,
I hate narcissistic people,
I hate criminals,
I hate subliminal messages,
I hate werid fetishes,
I hate killers,
I hate murderers,
I hate child molesters,
I hate sodomizer,
I hate spiders,
I hate fear,
I hate my mirror,
I hate low battery,
I hate battery (crime)
I hate pedophiles
I hate crocodiles
I hate the sun,
I hate to run,
I hate sin,
I hate my sinister grin,
I hate villains,
I hate millions,
I hate billions,
I hate trillions,
I hate people who dont hate what I hate,
I hate everything,
Oct 30, 2014
Oct 30, 2014 at 11:24 PM UTC
Melting madness and shimmering isles
The bubble-gum boils in drug pedophiles
Let's teach the East to love Western style
We come in with strap-on's and pillage with smiles
The rest of the world watches their watches
People keep saying we're at hour eleven
We're changing the design on our gold lockets
From a heart to a blackjack, Seven Seven Seven!
The college boys assure you that they know the lyrics
And the meanings behind them for they've been enlightened
They swarm out like locusts and pretentiously parrot
Verbatim the textbooks they read when they're frightened
That they'll die with nothing to show for their efforts
They want everyone else in the world to remember
That they did exist on some scale of importance
Even though we're just spun yarn of grass, dirt and oceans
Intelligence streams the consciousness seeds and conscientious objectors it seems
So pardon me for the fallacy of pardoning tyrannical dictator queens
It seems these days to be discovered you need to cheat on your spouse or your lover
You'd think that with all the war crimes we've seen we would have hung at least one or the other
We've got two parties, so pick one or scram! (Look at them squirm as fast as they can!)
They're starting to think for themselves again! Quick, strangle the market and feed this man
Acid and bath salts and give him some tear gas and send him on in to disarm the smear traps
And **** everyone so we'll jump to conclusion with no where to turn, the final solution!
I'm drunk again and we're falling in, the shoreline is riddled with explosions
We don't speak of the war, we have no comment, we're almost out of original content
We're frantically searching for a brand new contest to prove that our nation is still the best
Whether you're China, Russia, Israel, Pakistan, the U.K., or India, the U.S. or Japan
Let's take all the gangbanging **** out of Oakland and drop them in to the Atlantic Ocean
Or better yet, set them loose in Uganda, let's see how long they last in Rwanda.
I'm done with religion and socialized medicine, this aristocracy of pull and deception
So for once in our lifetimes, let's seek a vision, because God knows people can't make ******* decisions.
Jan 7, 2013
Jan 7, 2013 at 4:20 AM UTC
i took into a motel
on my way somewhere, to do something
the place was occupied by pedophiles, prostitutes and drunks
it had a "rent by the hour" option
outlaws, bikers and the occasional wannabe poet
on the run
on the hunt
we were all comfortable with America
half-heartedly chasing the Dream
i wanted to write a poem about jerking off
and getting *** all over myself
and having nothing to wipe it off with
so i decided (in the poem) to wait till it dried out
but then it never dried, so i laid there for days
until i got dizzy with hunger,
and had to get up (in the poem)
with the *** dripping down my body
leaving awful wet stains all over the room
on the drapes and sheets and remote control
"by god, it's everywhere!" i cried (in the poem)
but then i remembered that my mom reads my poems
so instead i wrote about these cows i saw
cows grazing on a pasture outside San Antonio
cows looking up at the sky
secretly dreaming of going to the moon
Feb 23, 2012
Feb 23, 2012 at 11:48 PM UTC
So I was walking down the street the other day,
smoking my cigarette,
and enjoying it,
and singing fake songs to myself,
and I walk past a small car,
and it made me stop,
because its strange to see a small car on my street.
Especially a small car painted in bright clown colors,
and especially a small clown colored car filled with smoke,
and especially a small clown colored car filled with smoke and what looks to be clowns.
So I decided to investigate,
and I walked up,
and I tapped on the window,
and as soon as I did all I could hear was screaming and kicking.
I took a step back because
I mean
****
what if it exploded?
And as the small colorful clown car door opened,
smoke poured out,
billowing and puffing,
very strange smelling smoke of all different colors,
and i began to wonder if it wasn't me who was tripping ball's,
as 1..
no 2..
no 12
huge bug eyed clowns crawled out.
Gawking and hissing and juggling crack pipes.
The first one asked my name.
I lied of course.
You never trust a cracked out clown,
not even with your name.
The second one asked me my age.
I lied of course,
because it's a well known fact crack clowns are pedophiles
and he might have tried to have his way with me
if I told him the truth about my tender young age.
The third asked me for a cigarette.
I gave it to him of course,
out of sheer terror that if I didn't
he might use his circus tricks
to pull a colorful rag out of his ***
and choke me to death with it
and I didn't want that.
The rest of them just kind of stared at me
or screamed
or sniffed my clothing and inspected me.
After a few minutes of all of this
I decided I'd had enough.
Talking with clowns is bad karma anyways,
and I started to walk away
waving politely
but no they weren't done with me yet.
They hog tide me
and covered me in clown make up
and adopted me as there new pet monkey
/clown driver
/lion tamer.
But of course,
when the police found me naked in a trash can at three in the morning a few hours later
still unable to complete whole sentences
they wouldn't believe ( or couldn't understand) a word of it
but I'll tell you,
if you ever see a smoke filled colorful clown car
just walk away.
We know the truth
its ugly, and juggles crack pipes.
Dec 27, 2012
Dec 27, 2012 at 1:38 AM UTC
I'm watching my life be spit back to me, through gods mouth, God threw me away into the swamps of the ugliest parts of Louisiana, where mosquitos don't dare lay their eggs. This is where the bodies of eagles rot and pedophiles and racists scrape up road **** for what it's worth and I am left searing on the road in the shimmering heat, waves from tar, crows circle in black masses, mass proceeds as the church burns, burn me with it, gracious god. I'm begging you to make my ashes worth something.
God sings out "Dastardly bastardly catastrophe girl, downing whole pill bottle model girl, where are you?" You called? I'm sitting in a parking lot, thinking how the man in front of me lot drinks a lot. He thinks he should quit a lot for his wife and kids who he loves a lot. That man from the parking lot, he bought himself another bottle of liquor with his wife's credit card. Life spins around me and I don't have time to keep up. I see you in front of me. I think of that a lot.
Beast of skipping stones, slip over me like the snake you are, wait for that Saint to catch you, hit the nail on the head and let it crucify you.
December gray makes its way into your old house, the one which you know which walls you were slammed against. Your mom sits sipping coffee in a chair.
She whispers, "I could **** you with kindness but let's see what's laying around first." She wants to make blood soup out of you. She'll tell you to quit whining as she wrings your crooked spine. She wants all survivor, no guilt.
Hey, I heard if you get high enough you can forgive yourself. I heard if you drink a lot you stop thinking. A mobs a mob all the same even if they're with you so let's make it like this, an army of drug addicts that sympathize with you. Holding needles and spoons and blunts and razor blades with you.
We sit under the stars and look at the sky a lot. Does the night sky ever look like it does in photographs?
Mar 14, 2017
Mar 14, 2017 at 2:16 PM UTC
I am hungry for infallible
Disastrous possession
Avoidant personalities
Violent narcissists
And angry pedophiles
I, narcissist
I have asked for this
Inattentive guardians
And half-baked characters
This willingness of mean
Wild and violent
Watch me fall asleep
And take out your mindlessness
Oct 9, 2014
Oct 9, 2014 at 4:33 PM UTC
What
Do You
Call
A Man
Who
Goes After
A Teenager?
Jun 13, 2012
Jun 13, 2012 at 10:26 PM UTC
If God is everywhere, he is in every pedophiles basement.
Sep 18, 2014
Sep 18, 2014 at 7:09 AM UTC
We are not pens, ourselves, red ink is not inside of us.
But we do have sensitive blood that is discolored, same as that utensil.
Difference is: it poisons us, gives us rashes and thoughts that we are not worthy to have. It wrecks our minds with ancient tools that were once unaccepted. Silly poppies can not
Ruin us like that. I know what can.
The things that worry us, teenagers and babies, parents and pedophiles;
Cease your worries. I pity you, teens.
"It is fun, it is fun." I know I know. But is it worth the risk?
Cease your worries parents. You don't need to stalk your own children.
They learn from their mistakes. They cry for a while and then get stronger.
Like I did, why I kept my mouth shut for so long,
I was better. Until you began to read. I couldn't go to you specifically for that reason,
Tightening your hold on me, mother. I am already a prisoner in my own mind.
I don't need another warden.
A century long breakthrough gave me something,an understanding that not all children accept
Their parents. I don't feel at home there.
It is not one. Just a house that I stay in, people I live with. They are family, by blood only.
****** ink: my savior. My hero, love, is you. You inspired me to digitalize, write with graphite.
But I am still contaminated, mind wandering,
History repeating, sounds piercing, a test is too much when I did not study.
Help me. The trials this has put me through are unfair. Give me my pen to sign a contract, but I
Poison myself instead. Only okay after after a needle enters my streams and takes it out.
A mechanical vampire, I prefer you to bit me instead of metal fangs.
And now I dream.
.
.
.
.
.
Or maybe I am not. We have lived as such long enough. But, still,
Write about it. Tell me how you feel. But be careful not to poison yourself.
I have experience with that. The pen has a hidden blade. It cuts you with every word you
Lay in front of you. May I be a word? Scratch my love into your skin?
I will not intoxicate you as it would. I will give you something else entirely.
But my dream ends. Reality steps on me and takes my breath from me, I am suffocating in this Hellhole. Give me a firehouse so I can put it out and drink away my parched lips.
They need to be soft so I can speak, but first... I need to
Sew my lips shut. If they are dry, they will rip and open. We don't want that.
Keep them shut, don't tear open and bleed; you would give ink poison to
Mockingbirds if you do. They mock me, copy me. They tell me they are jealous.
But why? They don't know they've been poisoned.
It is a cycle. Everyone will die of it in the end.
Nov 7, 2013
Nov 7, 2013 at 3:23 PM UTC
I'm watching my life be spit back to me, through God's mouth, God threw me away into the swamps of the ugliest parts of Louisiana, where mosquitoes don't dare lay their eggs. This is where the bodies of eagles rot and pedophiles and racists scrape up road **** for what it's worth and I am left searing on the road in the shimmering heat, waves from tar, crows circle in black masses, mass proceeds as the church burns, burn me with it, gracious God. I'm begging you to make my ashes worth something.
God sings out "Dastardly bastardly catastrophe girl, downing whole pill bottle model girl, where are you?" You called? I'm sitting in a parking lot, thinking how the man in front of ocean state job lot drinks a lot, I'm waiting for my mom and nothing in the world's more scary than waiting for what you call protection. The man drinks a lot. He thinks he should quit a lot for his wife and kids who he loves a lot. I knew a guy who smoked *** quit because he used to do it a lot. That man from the parking lot, he bought himself another bottle of liquor with his wife's credit card. Life spins around me and I don't have time to keep up. I think of that a lot.
Beast of skipping stones, slip over me like the snake you are, wait for that Saint to catch you, hit the nail on the head and let it crucify you.
December gray makes its way into your old house, the one which you know which walls you were slammed against. Your mom sits sipping coffee in a chair.
She whispers, "I could **** you with kindness but let's see what's laying around first." She wants to make blood soup out of you, she'll make it so you have a chipped spine, tell you to quit whining. She wants all survivor, no guilt.
Hey, I heard if you get high enough you can forgive yourself. I heard if you drink a lot you stop thinking. A mob's a mob all the same even if they're with you so let's make it like this, an army of drug addicts that sympathize with you. Holding needles and spoons and blunts and razor blades with you.
We sit under the stars and look at the sky a lot. Does the night sky ever look like it does in photographs?
Apr 19, 2016
Apr 19, 2016 at 1:29 PM UTC
Somebody
had thrown a cassette
of Therapy?'s "Troublegum"
its nicotine-hued tape
mangled like the innards of
a gutted fish, or
so many sprayed limbs
in a crowded car pile-up
-decorating the bare branches
of the winter-stricken trees
which lay beyond the barbed wire fence
that separated the state-supported
and architecturally sound
playground facade of the solitary concrete grounds
-with empty swings-
of our mixed gender primary school
of 200 plus students (whom were
referred to as "pupils"-which reminded me
too much of eyes, but children are all eyes, aren't they?
With golden-hued irises, who seem to remember
everything).
Who had thrown it there?
Smashing all the angst-sodden, ripped guitar reverberations
-the fruits of a few individuals hard grasp and compromise, toiled out through a probable number of significant years-
that had lurked inside?
Why that gesture and why in that place?
Perhaps it had been the jettisoned request
of some clandestine love affair
(ephemerality also lays claims to gifts, to its plural gesture)
or, maybe in a more obviously classical mode,
it was only the result
of a bored friend who cared little for the music
or the efforts behind its delivery?
Whatever the reason,
its one of a handful of memories
that have stayed with me
when my thoughts strayed back to that school
(mostly without an intended purpose).
Also, across the same wasteland
there were assembled corrugated shacks
lined in front of back-garden walls
strewn with illegible graffiti
anticipating the waning rave culture
where we supposed-and were frightened by the thought-
that were the hang-outs of Drug users (AIDS was still a topic then)
and Pedophiles.
But then again,
we never tried to find out.
Jul 12, 2014
Jul 12, 2014 at 7:06 AM UTC
in the story, a newborn is placed in a mailbox. we know of no harm and the story itself is very casual. an angel tells us the job of an angel is to fly in front of the master when the master is nude. we try to hang on every word. the mailbox is the only mailbox in heaven. our questions turn our stomachs. some of us become hormonal and some of us identify pedophiles by future rote. we head home in a pack. a siren behind us wails a moment before being joined.
Aug 19, 2013
Aug 19, 2013 at 4:26 PM UTC
dead bodies moving dead bodies
you know the theme, the scheme,
the thought and the idea
the bodies, dead, paying the bills,
moving dead past the dawn
eyeballs rolling up as windows
closing and doors close and open
the bodies, mass production,
lots of bodies
Monday, Tuesday, Shitday
Thursday, Friday, Saturday
and Christday
Neighbor Allah never greets anyone
and he talks to himself in echoes
Buddha is all smiles and virtues
but no muscle, Buddha's daughters
are out clubbing tonight ******* their
oriental curves, selling their oriental
scents and cold white skin
to Allah's *** deprived sons
Christ is the only father and
he disowns his nieces and nephews,
I knew years back that I am a distant relative
just dead bodies, yours and mine
produce, corporate livestock,
labels from the heaviest bills handed
over in sinister alleyways,
sinister exchanges, hitman to hitman,
extraction to extraction, fraction by fraction,
bodies serves as platforms,
nonliving chopping boards for the butchers
dressed up as elves
the bodies, limb by limb, sagging skins,
rivers of hairfalls, scratch marks,
Ms. Universe stretch marks, the *** tapes
of the cheerleaders whom silent and wise
boys yearned for all through years of fading
innocence
Closeted gay professionals keeping their pointed ******* when nothing's wrong with them until consent turns from probationary to mandatory and hate and red and blue and green and yellow flags and pedophiles and bigots and white supremacists and Allah whisperers and Allah fanatics and Buddha hypocrites and China takes over the world and feminists, and third and fourth and fifth and so on genders and Trump and memes and Filipinos and mental health and memes and mental health and memes and literature and literature and activists and who ****** who and politicians and what Americans, Australians, Chinese, Japanese, British, Candian, Irish and and North Koreans and K-Pop plastic lips and hips who young girls and boys from isolated islands gets ****** for and hipsters and the nine to fives and the ***** to give and the snobbish *** girls in parties, in clubs, in alleys who wants to get ****** by all the celebrity status ***** all just becomes a tiny pinch for the dead bodies not to see and point the flower and shoot the gun to end the human war.
Nov 5, 2018
Nov 5, 2018 at 2:48 PM UTC
AB:
Remembered when I was 6,
And didn't think my life would turn out this way,
Wasn't suppose to have one,
She didn't get that abortion anyway,
So I have to go through situations,
I'm not suppose to,
And every time reaching confirmation,
To people know , and talk to,
Nobody help,
But they stood on the side lines,
Fake friends and smiles,
Are limited , but please don't get out of line,
FNB:
Remembered when i was 6; didn't think my life would turn out this way.
Wasn't supposed to go through situations, but new lessons are learned each day.
Reaching confirmations, lines, fake friends, and half-hearted smiles.
Innocent kids become murderers, even pedophiles.
The good becomes limited, but please don't get out of line.
There's so much wrath and hatred, and we don't have a lot of time.
Oct 18, 2014
Oct 18, 2014 at 11:32 PM UTC
Books
Whispers
Quiet Sisters
Coffee
Donuts
Pictures of grown ups
Computers
Texting
Interruption of services
Crossed legs
Long aisles
Creeping pedophiles
The Library
Feb 28, 2015
Feb 28, 2015 at 4:56 PM UTC
"Forgive me father for I have sinned"
"Will you take my confession?"
"I'll listen to it, yes, my son"
"But, remember with who you're messing"
"Sorry father, I am confused"
"I do not get your meaning"
"Don't worry child, it's ok"
"It's not your soul needs gleaning"
"Tell me son, what did you do?"
"That you need to lose your burden"
"It can't be nearly half as bad"
"As all the folks we're hurtin"
"Again dear father, I'm confused"
"You speak in muddled rhymes"
"I'm sorry child, it's just that"
"We're in tough, embattled times"
"No matter what the sin you have"
"We've done much worse things than you"
"And I as Holy Father"
"I hide all the things they do"
"I say, my son...if there is one"
"Who needs to be absolved"
"You're sitting in this box with him"
"It's me who should be solved"
"I was the Pope, just days ago"
"I led the Holy Roman Church"
"No one was more powerful"
"And I left them in the lurch"
"I was the one who spoke to God"
"I was the Holy See"
"If God had wanted something done"
"He spoke to you through me"
"But, I chose my own path"
"Hiding sins of Catholic Priests"
"I turned away from all their wrongs"
"I let the bad ones feast"
"Pedophiles, I hid them all"
"I turned a blind eye to their sin"
"Then, I hid the papers showing proof"
"I would not let God come in"
"Now, I am protected"
"I can not be touched, you see"
"The Vatican is still my home"
"I'm not the Pope, but still am free"
"So, child, tell me what it is"
"You think may curse your soul"
"I'll give you three hail mary's"
"And then I'll send you for a stroll"
"I was the Pope, the voice of God"
"Now, I'm just a normal man"
"I'm as guilty as the rest of them"
"Catch Me If You Can!!!"
Feb 19, 2013
Feb 19, 2013 at 11:50 AM UTC
Pedophiles in Westminster
All nicely covered up
Now it's the royal family
Will it ever stop
The thin blue line is broken
It's more like dot to dot
Then insult to injury
They give one of them a gong!
We earned the right to wear blue serge
With blood sweat and tears
It isn't cosplay for us
The uniform is real.
You say crime is falling
Your figures aren't real!!
So lament the passing of Dixon of Dock Green
You sold out to the Joker
there's no laughing here.
Jan 4, 2015
Jan 4, 2015 at 2:48 PM UTC