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Quentin Briscoe Apr 2012
When I push the pedal to the metal theres no limit I **** space...
my movement never constant just can't stay in one place...
So I zoom zoom through the poom poom...
leaving ****** scenes in bedrooms..
given girlies the boom boom...
Explode...As i unload...
round after round clip after clip...
as their bodies shake and twitch lick after lick...
Sounds of *** remind me I'm some ****...
And why the **** Im i even sittin here doin this...
With no remorse in my eyes..
I **** em until they die...
pound after pound
clap sound after clap sound...
pelivis agianst *****
we know which is the meanest..
Wit no protection Im at war..
with criminals who only *****...
Thier war crimes they get paid for...
then the death toll I get blaimed for..
As i leave them slayin to rest...
Some label me the best...
others just another *** that clucks at all the hens..
Can't read my metaphors that means ***** alot of women...
The reaction is i get a lot of practice so i can be to half bad..
So dont sign up for tryouts get cut then get mad...
because you haven't had the amout of practice i had..
See I know all types of tricks..
lights skin, brown skin, dark skin, i got a whole lot of picks.
The ins and the outs..
when to drive in and when to pull out...
Squirting your insides against my stomach...
you panic..
instantly proclaiming to your maker...
that Iam your ******....
the one who drove to fast that your waves decided to crash...
all over me..milking your sweet nector...
as you lay life lessly twitching..the side effects of a killing..
so i place the pedal to the metal i tend to burn rubber...
one hand around the neck of the wheel and the other around my lovers...
There was a man,
about whom it was said,
that he was near enough,
but could get no nearer.
kelly rai Dec 2021
Poom poom poom
Writing poems in my room.
Giving a voice to the voices in my head.
So I can fall asleep soon.
None of them are me.
At the same time.
All of them are me.
jaykzee Oct 2013
COFFEE MAKES ME CRAZAY
IT MAKES ME WIGGLE AND JIGGLE
ALL OVER MY ROOM
SO I CAN"T EVEN TYPE THIS POOM
Zizaloom Aug 2018
I eat my feelings in a spoonful of concentrated milk
Powdered milk
A pound of peanut butter
A bit of butter and sugar
Sugar, sweet sugar
Binge binge binge
Till my eyes become wet
"Eyorgasm" from food I collect
In my belly they move, they dance
Jibble, dribble, floppy cheeks
Sadness, deep as the hole I scrunched in the sand years ago
Repentance creeping throughout bread crumbs glazed atop shaky fingers
Glaze, pastries, oily eyelashes trembling, drizzling wet puddles of salt
Drowning, me, sorrows into the ocean I've become
Drowning, still, incomplete, a worm, floating in and out of my ears
From right to left, right to left, right left, left, left, right, left and then
Lighting strikes ten thousand miles from another sphere
Half of a worm gets stuck in the rear
Realisation (Trak! Poom! Pow!)
Je suis une pomme pourrie

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