"rubbers" poems
**i'm in a dangerous state of mind
with no care for living this life
where human emotions are traded
for less than a pack of rubbers
but you didn't even use those
so how much did i truly mean
when the push came to shove
and grinding hips
with moaning lips
that whispered, screamed,
and cried his name
on the night you ****** my heart away
where loyalty takes a literal backseat
to pleasure
and a long term relationship
is laughing stock material
ha ha standup, ain't i funny
to look for something more than this
but i would choke on my own tongue
before i'd speak bad of you
my backstabbing lover
unfaithful friend
i hope to god it he was worth it
the cost was more than just tears
but blood spray on the bathroom mirror
and an empty place where i once
used to love
permanently empty
i can't find the will to care
more than a few half-hearted,
correct that, heartless
obscenities muttered under my breath
with ****** on my mind
a 3:30am fantasy to help dull
the pain that i should be feeling
maybe i'm just a pessimist,
fatalist, cynical, and negative
but my lack of surprise cuts the most
lied to by my mind for those
two months of my life
that i thought i had it all
better to have loved and lost
but even better to **** it all
and just go out with your name on my lips
and your lies in my heart
i hope you think of me when you're with him
that you choke on your tears
plagued with the worst emotions and loss
a better killer than any gun**
Dec 14, 2012
Dec 14, 2012 at 9:48 PM UTC
May I join you in the doghouse, Rover?
I wish to retire till the party's over.
Since three o'clock I've done my best
To entertain each tiny guest. My conscience now I've left behind me,
And if they want me, let them find me.
I blew their bubbles, I sailed their boats,
I kept them from each other's throats. I told them tales of magic lands,
I took them out to wash their hands.
I sorted their rubbers and tied their laces,
I wiped their noses and dried their faces. Of similarities there's lots
Twixt tiny tots and Hottentots.
I've earned repose to heal the ravages
Of these angelic-looking savages. Oh, progeny playing by itself
Is a lonely little elf,
But progeny in roistering batches
Would drive St. francis from here to Natchez. Shunned are the games a parent proposes,
They prefer to squirt each other with hoses,
Their playmates are their natural foemen
And they like to poke each other's abdomen. Their joy needs another woe's to cushion it,
Say a puddle, and someone littler to push in it.
They observe with glee the ballistic results
Of ice cream with spoons for catapults, And inform the assembly with tears and glares
That everyone's presents are better than theirs.
Oh, little women and little men,
Someday I hope to love you again, But not till after the party's over,
So give me the key to the doghouse, Rover
7.8k
I am an unwanted child of god
I am an unwanted child of god-
He said,
And I, (believing him)
examined his shapes closely.
Simple enough,
Is what would best describe him,
his feet were sheltered by rubbers
manufactured in some distant or exotic country
crafted by machines
in far away factories.
This unwanted child of god, this dark young man, child of father after father infinitum;
Gave me a look of terror and apathy at once, then spoke.
I think, sometimes, of acting out of character-
(his smile surprised me)
I put the gun in my mouth just to taste the cold iron-
I bring men to my hotel room, women too-
(his gap widened)
Who can say I am not the happiest ******* on the ******* planet-
'not me'
I'll drink to that-
Oh hoarse throat, oh smokey breath
Oh sad unwanted child of god
Whose mother did look upon the coat-hanger,
And whose father did look upon the belt;
I'll drink to you everyday,
For who is to say I'm not the happiest ******* on the ******* planet?
Hip and hip
hooray.
Next Sunday he pulled the trigger, and stained the Dull brown wall of his hotel room.
Nov 10, 2011
Nov 10, 2011 at 7:11 PM UTC
Let's see
When she visits I'll need
Rubbers, fresh and non latex
Oil to rub in gently
To work my arms out
To prevent pain whilst issuing it out
Whips, and maybe a couple of paddles and
Chains
Because i know she's into pain
Maybe even an umbrella, or a nicely made cane
....
I think thats it
Ive quite the checklist!
Oct 11, 2017
Oct 11, 2017 at 11:46 PM UTC
3
“Sic transit gloria mundi,”
“How doth the busy bee,”
“Dum vivimus vivamus,”
I stay mine enemy!
Oh “veni, vidi, vici!”
Oh caput cap-a-pie!
And oh “memento mori”
When I am far from thee!
Hurrah for Peter Parley!
Hurrah for Daniel Boone!
Three cheers, sir, for the gentleman
Who first observed the moon!
Peter, put up the sunshine;
Patti, arrange the stars;
Tell Luna, tea is waiting,
And call your brother Mars!
Put down the apple, Adam,
And come away with me,
So shalt thou have a pippin
From off my father’s tree!
I climb the “Hill of Science,”
I “view the landscape o’er;”
Such transcendental prospect,
I ne’er beheld before!
Unto the Legislature
My country bids me go;
I’ll take my india rubbers,
In case the wind should blow!
During my education,
It was announced to me
That gravitation, stumbling,
Fell from an apple tree!
The earth upon an axis
Was once supposed to turn,
By way of a gymnastic
In honor of the sun!
It was the brave Columbus,
A sailing o’er the tide,
Who notified the nations
Of where I would reside!
Mortality is fatal—
Gentility is fine,
Rascality, heroic,
Insolvency, sublime!
Our Fathers being weary,
Laid down on Bunker Hill;
And tho’ full many a morning,
Yet they are sleeping still,—
The trumpet, sir, shall wake them,
In dreams I see them rise,
Each with a solemn musket
A marching to the skies!
A coward will remain, Sir,
Until the fight is done;
But an immortal hero
Will take his hat, and run!
Good bye, Sir, I am going;
My country calleth me;
Allow me, Sir, at parting,
To wipe my weeping e’e.
In token of our friendship
Accept this “Bonnie Doon,”
And when the hand that plucked it
Hath passed beyond the moon,
The memory of my ashes
Will consolation be;
Then, farewell, Tuscarora,
And farewell, Sir, to thee!
2.6k
PENCILS
I use to get excited about having a new pencil or freshly sharpened one. Point, fine and sharp. Ready for use like a dull point pencil could not do the job.
I swear paper was perfectly made for pencils. Until I met pens, but, they never brought out the best in my penmanship.
But a pencil, it was light as a feather, easy to manipulate, no extra items needed to erase mistakes..
If only life was like a pencil with a clean rubber, we would erase the unwanted and rewrite our best as if it did not affect us. We would stay fine like china but who would sharpen our edges, would it be people or the things we are mostly engaged in.
Who will ensure our rubbers does not smudge pages. Are we in charge of that or are we asking for too much.
In fact a pencil does not have a high life expectancy rate, so am I grateful for my life even though people count the seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, and years and call it time. So yes I appreciate it. But no matter what happens I still enjoy using new pencils.
Sep 16, 2016
Sep 16, 2016 at 9:00 AM UTC
Uh sitting at this desk
waiting for the bell
see I
work 9 to 5 well
7 to 3 thirty
I’m *****
A little flirty
Tuck in my shirty
Be helpful
And curtious
Don’t make a fuss
Or ride the bus
I’m a driver
Got my **** tight like MacGyver
Or Minnie Driver
Don’t wanna be a miser
So I share, dog
Give it all away
Make a play
For Mr. Oregon day
Maybe I’m cray cray
But I still don’t say
Nuthin that just may
Hurt feelings in a bad way
And I’m not gay
……just raised this way.
And that’s o.k.
This America, dog
And I am free
White and over 20
You prolly wanna be me
Cause I’m tall
And oh so ****
It’s a blessing
So quit messing
Have I got ya guessing?
This is me confessing
I’m a nice guy
Uh
And its like that
I’m a nice guy
And I just wont quit
See I hold the door
For all comers
Winter or summer
Even wore rubbers
Till I got married then things varied
I still carry
The bottles from the dairy
Cause we live organic
Try to avoid the panic
We don’t act manic
Sweeter that Alan Thicke
I stack bricks
But only for later use
I don’t abuse
Or make the rules
I’m a nice guy.
Apr 16, 2015
Apr 16, 2015 at 12:51 PM UTC
Morning is not my time of day,
That's when concepts float away,
Across the garden, down the lane,
Through the gate at Hester Payne's.
Teacher's pet and top pass,
Hester sits eyes front in class,
With rubbers straight and pencils sharp,
A clean page ready to start.
I, of course, am running late,
Hair a-fly, face scrubbed in haste.
Chasing my thoughts, I see them now,
Bouncing ahead: _’Where? Why? How?’_
Miss Armitage says I can do better,
Just follow her lead to the letter.
She raps twice: _’Attention, please!’_
We all fall quiet - three sniffs, one sneeze.
_’Now settle down, it's time to count.’_
Braids and partings turn around
To face the board and I'm up first.
Chalk in hand, could things get worse?
In front of Danny, in front of Sue,
In front of Seamus. And you know who?
Three plus three, then five times six,
Square root of nine, just take your pick.
Six and...thirty...three, I'm sure.
Or was that seven? Maybe four.
My mouth goes dry, I stare and blink.
Lord knows, I find it hard to think.
Up the corridor, down the stairs,
Right then left, my thoughts in pairs,
Sift and swirl and giddy about.
_’Behave yourself, now cut that out!’_
_’Come back here, where you belong.
Don't wonder off! Don't make me wrong!’_
I scratch my answers, the class is aghast,
It seems I've something right at last.
Hester sighs, as glum as can be,
For today...this morning...for everyone to see,
My thoughts have stuck with me.
Dec 15, 2018
Dec 15, 2018 at 12:33 AM UTC
Oil of clove and wing of bat
Eye of newt and hair or cat
I bet she mumbles to herself
As she shops like everyone else
Rams her cart into everyone
A proper witch she has become
Wait until she checks out today
And sees what treats have come her way
For ramming your shopping cart into me
Wins a prize for you he he
The check girl is all a singer
For KY jelly and some rubbers
At 80+ you should know better!
Do not leave your cart unattended
Sep 8, 2013
Sep 8, 2013 at 12:11 PM UTC
This hatred
soaks into my bones.
Bouquets of plastic flowers
The smell of cigarettes
and used rubbers
saturate my senses
A sweet kiss
a deluge of poison
armistice broken
for selfish desire
This drought
this doubt
this never ending fear
it grinds against my soul
Do you even know me?
Am I even here?
Crashing into bars
of a gilded cage
The bird with clipped wings
Grounded
A song of melancholy
lingers in the air
Apr 17, 2022
Apr 17, 2022 at 11:01 PM UTC
Woke up out a cold sweat
Thinkin' will i survive the subliminal threats
Cant get a job cuz im black
Thats a brutal honest fact
So brothers switch to a jack
Dont get mad when we rollin' craps
Hood mentality
To be nba or nfl livin' fantasies
Chasin' broken dreams
Thinkin' you can get the cream
No education cuz they medias want segregation
**** the pulpit preachers talk ****
Tellin' about them ******** parables
I know im a rebel
Born saint roll me up some dank
Hit the burb park my ds on the curb
Hitt the switches for the *******
Middle finger for them snitches
If ya know me ya might be a homie
And if you a groupie
You nothing but a phony
Check my licks we steady got ya heads bobbin"
***** SHOULD HAVE KNOWN
IM STEADY MOBBIN''
I jumps in the shower
Clean as a muthafucka throw
On some baby powder
Dressed fresh to death
Makin' these girls loose they breath
***** i aint no lover
Go after them other brothers
Cuz ya cant catch me in a gank
Gas up the 64 put 30 in the tank
Gave the good lord a thank
Hit the liquor store and pour up some drank
My homie Tim riding shotgun
Im public enemy number one
Dont got a license for a gun
So thats means im illegally packin
Extra clips
Just incase for bodystackin' fools be actin'
Out but i got the clout
Rubbers on deck to keep a ** in check
Watch ya mouth before i slit ya neck
Still feelin' my music
Got ya ****** head bobbin'
***** im steady mobbin'
Aug 17, 2015
Aug 17, 2015 at 11:04 AM UTC
The Miss, Misters and Mrs.,
And the St. Joseph's Sisters,
Made me a Bluejay,
Jay- jaying and soaring
Over Wrens and Robins
Below in five rows.
Teeth marks on Ticondarogas,
Initialed pink rubbers,
Toothpicks and fingers
Solved all those problems.
Sister Lucille showed me Sarnia
On the Neilson Wall Map,
With the Malted Milk,
Crispy Crunch bars staring back.
They looked too delicious,
Her reprimand was contritious,
I'm doing time during recess,
Ninety minutes til lunch.
We stood in a crooked line,
Like a snake, to get marked,
With her drawer a crack open
We'd get a peek at her strap.
Black or red, correctively cold;
Sister Roseangela, we'd heard,
Cried, Quid Pro Quo.
We had football baseball,
And hockey dreams,
Volleyball, basketball,
And funeral teams;
Field Days, Holy Days,
Days needed at home;
Teachers were coaches,
With little time to complain;
But the kids back then
Just weren't the same.
There were skirmishes, fouls,
Strike outs and time outs;
We were sliced white bread,
No rye or whole grain.
We'd march double file
Once a week to the Church,
To genuflect and reflect
At the Stations and Cross.
To confess, get redress,
Display penitent remorse,
Though keeping a secret
From the Confessional box,
A comfort and curse.
Their objective succeeded,
The lessons went deep;
Using the three Rs,
The ABCs, 1, 2, 3s,
To impart and ingraine
How to carry one's cross.
I remember by name
The Miss, Misters and Mrs.
And St. Joseph's Sisters
Who gave their all,
Each day, and always.
They've gone or retired,
But recalled in tranquility
For the life-lessons I admire.
Apr 29, 2017
Apr 29, 2017 at 12:06 PM UTC
His name,
well it is Dominique,
wants to be a woman,
perhaps,
as he slips into his plaid skirt,
thought it rather itchy,
he could be rather ******
Starts off in high heels,
yes,
Then he dons his rubbers,
I said Dons,
not Dom's,
then feeds his fetish,
pulls up his welly boots,
into rubber you know!
He traipses to the shop of ***
there he buys a gimp suit,
gives his girlfriend whips and chains,
she locks him up in the cellar,
he's a really funny fella,
I'm sure he is okay,
but, I guess I'll never know!
(C) Livvi
May 21, 2014
May 21, 2014 at 1:04 PM UTC
there's a boy in my bed
who was not there before.
i left for a short while
and rushed back to find a rubber band
boy stretched from my headboard
to the foot of my bed.
i'm afraid that he will snap
or maybe i'm afraid i will
because i've been wrought so tight
my chest is collapsing in on itself
but the sight of the boy in my bed, well,
it loosens my strings.
(and rubber always bounces back.)
this rubber band boy has played
me before; he knows all the melodies
i will sing to him and he will croon back
and it is the duet i have always wanted:
the one where neither of us make a sound.
i let the boy in my bed stretch
his rubber band arms around me,
rub up and down my back
because i am wracked with sobs
because i am panicked and broken
because i am the scratched record
i can only play the first few lines
of the same song: '*wise men say
only fools rush in*';
the rest of it flies over my head
and hits rubber.
so he finishes the song for me:
'i can't help falling in love with you.'
i can't help but think
that i would **** this boy senseless.
(i'd **** him up too, i always **** it up).
they call condoms 'rubbers' in North America but
that's wrong. (they're latex.)
they call erasers 'rubbers' in the UK. (correct.)
Our culture gap reflects us well.
I need, ache, to prevent mistakes from happening
but I have ******* myself over too often;
even latex cannot save me.
He is there when the mistakes are made,
over and over again,
rubbing them out until they're nothing but
shavings, little bits to be blown off the sheet,
cut out from the final piece.
i can only hope i prevent myself
from becoming the mistake
he must erase from himself.
if i never get to be the opera,
let me be a song,
a verse,
a single note.
perhaps he won't remember me at all,
just the bed he's stretched himself in.
maybe what i'll be in his composed works
is a well-placed
rest.
Jul 13, 2013
Jul 13, 2013 at 1:36 AM UTC
Born of love
one likes to think
They never told you
Actions speak louder than words
Their actions told of no love unspoken
But instead
of resentment and anger
that you came into the world
Like a broken record
You didn't understand
You thought it all a mistake
They didn't belong to you
You came from someone else
But that was just denial
You didn't want to believe
that those who brought you forth
could be so cruel
"Sticks and stones will break my bones
but words will never hurt me."
Childhood mantra
Lies
Words strike the deepest wound
Cut through the layers
no wall impenetrable
Imprinted
in permanent ink
Or so you thought
Time moves on
death
age
illness
change the matrix
In your darkest hour
you think
"Can I forgive?
Can I forget?"
And then the demons came
travelling on the wings of death
A seemingly endless
drug-induced battle against illness
surgery on surgery
medevacs
"Come on," you say
"I can beat you all."
Bravado
but actually the truth
Demons equal rubbers
Triumph over them...
patterns, imprints erased
Enter step mother - stage right
Rug pulled
world upside down again
But you allowed it
Time stops for no man
Or woman
Age
More surgery
Mirrors
Thankful for all past events
They molded you
to the person you are
Give thanks with open heart
to he and she
For all their deeds
Their words didn't hurt you
They fertilised you
You blossomed
Build the bridge
He is old
He is your father
No denying it
Tell him you love him
With unfettered heart
And forgiveness in your voice
Be
Sep 28, 2010
Sep 28, 2010 at 6:00 PM UTC
Put your troubles into something else.
Don't use that razor blade again.
Or the blunt scalpel you keep.
Or even that bent kitchen knife.
Put your troubles into something else.
Leave the eyeliner on the shelf.
Leave the rubbers in the box.
Leave the earrings on the stand.
Put your troubles into something else.
How about the doodles you draw.
Or the stories that flow from your pen.
Even the paintings done at dawn.
Put your troubles into something else.
Maybe, even, me. I won't look at them.
I will gently untangle every one.
Trim them until they are all gone.
Put your troubles into something else.
Not a sealed chest.
Not a closed box.
Not a corked bottle.
Put your troubles into something else.
Let your mind be free.
Let your heart be free.
Let me be free.
May 24, 2014
May 24, 2014 at 2:31 PM UTC
I came, I lied, I learned to do both and better
Poked at people’s smiles and made some myself.
This was college, I woke, I drank, I explored
Stared at girls, got caught, stared at myself and got fatter,
Smoked, laughed, and refused to throw up.
Walked to class but I did not go through the door
Turned around happy, dizzy and hung over
Outside, Gazed at the sun and forgot I was one.
Ignored my phone, fathers calls and mother
Spoke up my lies, tied lead to my feet.
Met a beautiful demon girl and did some lines.
Woke up again to *** naked letters, I went to the beat
Listened to music, made some of my own
Wrote poems that rhymed too much, sent them to her
Drove my car on weekends running away with miles
Visited her, the demon, it made me smile some more
More *** she gave me pills, and we cuddled
Alive, long and strong. She gave me love letters
She broke my heart cheated and ran for cover in France.
I lost my mind my grades, no love for my body
My hands, I still had some rubbers and No one left.
I used them once that summer
More coke, **** pills, I hung out with friends
Thoughts of suicide all the lead the lies
Thought run away, die, run away, die
Luckily I had friends.
Jun 19, 2011
Jun 19, 2011 at 3:22 PM UTC
while all things have changed.
rubbers are now a derivative of oil,
latex still drips from trees for certain usage.
we talked on god, death and whitsun,
on sunday. we banged the glass, together.
it broke.
there is an island near the holy head.
st michael.
Apr 29, 2014
Apr 29, 2014 at 1:11 AM UTC
Untamed mammals release tensions before mine own eye's. Chains art broke, none more cloaks to hide those dreading thoughts of suicide. Raging dictating swearer's, jewels traded for tools as the sun lowers. Tis this place gets rarer and bare. . . . . . .Cars surround. Compound their rubbers to bullets of blood issued steel. . .Captivating and excruciating. Music to thy ear's turneth to bad news! ! Chess sweepers. Checker winners. Both losers whilst the rest born sinners. . . Costly state pay to fatcat pocket books hands; some issue warnings whilst protective custody issues dull demands. . . . . All prosecution standeth to issued remaxed detective blogees. . . . . . .redneck respecters cometh with protectors whilst the odd breeds cometh with a dodger. . . . . .mystique, defeat. . . . .to thy hands thou art tied from behind! Move up the latter, tasteth thine coroded own chatter, the deaf art now the blind. . . . . . .
Jul 4, 2015
Jul 4, 2015 at 10:35 AM UTC
It's me, TIRED...
To be honest, I am a little burned out. I am an important feeling, as well as an important word.
You want to be me so badly that you even say that you're me
You have done nothing to earn me
I feel so ***** when you use me in those un-natural ways
I will not be your scapegoat that you use to fool other sheep!
Why you wanna be me so badly anyhow?
Is it because of this flat earth thing?
I know you say that you're tired of this and that, it's hard to figure.
Trying to be me just to change me?
Well fyi, i am tired when i wake up, tired when i go to bed...
I am tired at my daughter's word graduation
Yes, I named my daughter Drowsy
Let me catch one of you hair brain's using my daughter, and you'll be sleeping with the fishes.
See, I am the original TIRED...that makes me REAL TIRED
There's plenty in my family
You are going against the FAMILY
I treat you nice, right?
Mess around and you will meet my uncle, DEAD
DEAD TIRED
If you ask him, your only good tired, is DEAD TIRED
We will let the coroner be the judge of what you are then.
It is bad enough what you do to those rubber round things on your car
They did not complain, but just showed a little wear
So, what do you do? You changed their name from RUBBERS to TIRES
Just to rub it in that you put your weight, plus the weight of a car on them.
Keep on rolling TIRES...someday may you find some rest my friends
I got these fools
I'm quick to put people in there place and they just put me anywhere
Making me sick and me?
Sick does not hold tired's hand
I don't even like what SICK does
Sick goes along with whatever just for attention
Just like you try to make me go along with your wide eyed lies?
Hey wiseguy
Kiss my ring or you can forget about it
Words are in the family, and dear to my heart
I don't even know how to feel right now
Knock it off meatheads, or you will see what is important
Now, go on, and remember, don't speak my name unless you're asleep...in that case, it's ok to dream
I got guys there too...family
Now stop trying to be me, gangsta...or get you some of me!
the REAL tired...and fam
PS. No little birdy better not show up and tell me things I don't want to hear. That birdy doesn't deserve the trouble.
Oct 10, 2021
Oct 10, 2021 at 3:42 PM UTC
We enslaved by the mind why you think they called brain cells,yea it's eight planets so I'm guessing that it's more hells,they aiming for me wit slow bullets call em turtle shells,yea I got a quarter so I'm looking for the wishing wells,say Ima die early man I'm calling that them fairy tales,rapping like I'm casting spells,only taking W's ion really take no L's,and if I did it's a lesson,if I learned it's a blessing,living life like I'm just testing,my opponents they just guessing,changing things like I'm the setting,on the path like I'm just destined,out the box I'm never checking,gods gift I come from heaven,starting things like Armageddon,yea my voice a deadly weapon,asking me a who you threating,officer like why sweating,I want the top like I'm the heading,no conclusion,I do this for my brothers the ones that's on the street and sometimes don't even got they mothers,using drugs as they covers,bussing guns with no rubbers,killing each other like wild lovers life is like a war x2 so what you stand for,is it them Jordan's on your feet,or that song that's on the radio and you only like the beat,this worlds a trick and not a treat,we don't live by they rules so they trying say we cheat,then they **** us with that heat,give our movas the receipt,and it's going stop we just gotta see,you don't gotta be foreign,washing up on the shoring,when I see make up on women ,catch Z's like I'm snoring,expand the mind like we touring,clean up our mess like we choring,treat ignorance like it's boring
Aug 15, 2015
Aug 15, 2015 at 12:38 AM UTC
I came, I lied, I learned to do both and better
Poked at people’s smiles and made some myself.
This was college, I woke, I drank, I explored
Stared at girls, got caught, stared at myself and got fatter,
Smoked, laughed, and refused to throw up.
Walked to class, but I did not go through the door
Turned around happy, dizzy and hung over
Outside, Gazed at the sun and forgot I was one.
Ignored my phone, fathers calls and mother
Spoke up my lies, tied lead to my feet.
Met a beautiful demon girl and did some lines.
Woke up again to *** naked letters, I went to the beat
Listened to music, made some of my own
Wrote poems that rhymed too much, sent them to her
Drove my car on weekends running away with miles
Visited her, the demon, it made me smile some more
More *** she gave me pills, and we cuddled
Alive, long and strong. She gave me love letters
She broke my heart cheated and ran for cover in France.
I lost my mind my grades, no love for my body
My hands, I still had some rubbers and No one left.
I used them once that summer
More coke, **** pills, I hung out with friends
Thoughts of suicide all the lead the lies
Thought run away, die, run away, die
Luckily I had friends.
Mar 28, 2013
Mar 28, 2013 at 5:53 PM UTC
Rubbers ones for scrubbers,
Toilet pans and kitchen sinks.
Me thinks.
Non-latex ones for cleaning bums.
Bums of mums.
Bums of dad's.
Bums of bums upon the streets.
How sweet.
*** scrubbing,
Protection.
For you and I.
Plastic see through ones for preparation.
Rapid food.
Keep cold hand warm on winter's days.
How many pairs of gloves do we go through?
That is the question of the day.
(C) LIVVI
Feb 6, 2015
Feb 6, 2015 at 8:27 AM UTC