"stereotypical" poems
Sun drawing out sweat
causing clothes to fall off
Deep breaths and quiet grins
Eyes of strangers met
Shirtless against the wall
but only in the head
Standing like a scarecrow
so nothing stands out at all, oh god
Chitter chatter to cover up
But the sweat is growing thick
Better act natural
to keep from becoming the stereotypical
male ****
Keep cool, self, be slick
Nov 13, 2012
Nov 13, 2012 at 3:34 AM UTC
dear stereotypical people,
you make me sick.
i mean, who are you to tell me what i can and can't do because i don't have a ****
why do you think that this is a rap? is it because i'm black?
because i live on an island, i must be wild and uncouth?
and whenever i speak my mind, i'm another rebellious youth?
dear stereotypical people,
you see my glasses and call me a nerd?
and make fun of me because I know of words you've never heard?
oh i'm sorry, that i took my education seriously.
and i swear if another person says 'girl you're so tall, you have to play ball.'
i'm gonna run head first into a gaddamn wall.
dear stereotypical people,
why do you trust the white man in a suit but not the black man in the hoodie?
is it because he looks cleans and exudes goodie goodie?
dear stereotypical people,
please mind your business
which i'm pretty sure doesn't include how that teenage mom and her child are living.
dear stereotypical people,
why do women that are open about *** make you wanna run away?
i mean, i'm pretty sure it shouldn't matter what she does with her body unless she's your wife
my God, why can't y'all let people live their lives?
dear straight men that lust over gay women,
NO WE DONT WANT TO ********* WITH YOU
**** it, we like the same thing you do!
dear people of the world,
yes I live in the Bahamas
no I do not live in a hut, eat coconuts and go on the beach every day.
dear stereotypical people,
i promise i don't hate you
i do hate how you look down upon people that live differently from you, that see differently from you, that think differently from you.
i would hope that you know that this world does not revolve around you, no one will stop being who they are because of you.
don't get me wrong, some people hurt because of what you do.
just think about how you would feel if it were you.
my prayer is only that you think before you say.
and maybe one day, you'll all see the error in your ways.
Apr 27, 2016
Apr 27, 2016 at 7:13 PM UTC
Pretty girls don't cry
Guess with all the makeup how could I
Ladies don't drink
Guess with all my pain ill just Take your man
Sober
Cuz i'm pretty right?
Stereotypical Diva, She too quiet
Guess she stuck up
She's gotta be a *** why she always lucks up?
Sugar baby,Slays
Waist training made her that way
The world is insecure
Lots of pain that we endure
reflecting judgment on others, to forget our demonic flaws
Jul 19, 2018
Jul 19, 2018 at 4:46 PM UTC
Bob Marley Spoken Word 5/1/2012
What comes to mind when I say; Bob Marley?
Is it a stereotypical ‘idea’ of a Rastafarian; ***** dreadlocks & *** smoker?
Or is it a …
An intelligent and talented man; who wanted change in a positive way?
Yeah he had dreadlocks and didn’t see any harm in the herb. That was his apart of his religion and beliefs. You can’t call yourself a true fan if that’s the only reason you’ve liked him because he smoked *** It’s time to get over that; you need to realize what he truly was about. He gave us knowledge about history, Uplifting and positive rhythms, happiness when you’re down, music to stop us from worrying when shaken and songs of freedom. This man told us powerful messages through his music. This guy was brilliant and I sure as hell don’t think of him as a ***** dreadlocked *** smoking Rastafarian. Who’s a bad influence on children, most definitely not! Children should listen and gain knowledge. We in the world are lucky to have a man that lived; who still lives in millions of hearts away. I’m glad we had such a wonderful human being he is one of the biggest inspirations to me. I will live to tell messages in my writings that will be a part of history.
- One Love
May 6, 2012
May 6, 2012 at 9:36 PM UTC
“Yorkshire! Yorkshire!” I hear the EDL scream,
as if somehow the county, relates to their regime?
Trying to push on others their far right views,
and tainting Yorkshire with their taboos
cos Yorkshire to me, is whatever the **** I want it to be,
I do love a bit of local pride...
maybe to revel in the comfort it provides,
and even though stereotypes say we're tight,
as well as stubborn, argumentative (they're prolly right),
But I'd rather that, than be uptight,
like a stereotypical southerner might
I recently read a quote from Stuart Maconie,
“England has a bottom half,
but there isn't a south, in the same way there's a north”
The North in the south means desolation,
A cultural wasteland with deserted stations,
a place built on violent, aggressive foundations,
With mid summer Arctic temperature fluctuations,
Nothing that comes close to a nation....
But that's not what I see,
To be from the north means good fish and chips,
with tomato sauce and vinegar, it's glory on the lips,
I see people willing to lend a hand,
A honest chat about the weather as you stand at a bus stop
that you never planned,
It doesn't matter whether it's a cob, bun, bap, barm or roll,
Or that the north was ****** over by the outsourcing of coal,
Or your opinion that we're all just sat on the dole, drinking tea out of a ***** bowl.
We should still all have a similar goal,
To have a good time,
and not hurt a soul
Sometimes I do like to revel in the divide,
but I'll always welcome people from the other side,
Acceptance is not sin,
and if you let it,
it generally ends up with a win : win
What's Yorkshire to you? I haven't got a clue... but come sit down so we can have a chat and a brew! And hopefully we'll both learn something we never knew.
Oct 8, 2014
Oct 8, 2014 at 12:33 PM UTC
Sixth grade was the first time I remember feeling out of place in my own body. I tried on a shirt from the year before and realized I wasn't the same size anymore. I felt strange for a moment, then brushed it off. I threw away the shirt the next day. By the end of middle school I knew I was bigger than my friends, but I tried to avoid thinking about it. I just wanted to fit in like the rest of them.
Freshman year I got called fat and decided to make myself invisible. Treated every food as if it an allergy. Lost 30 pounds in 60 days. Told my parents I already ate. Told my friends I was eliminating junk food. Told no one my secret for years.
Gained my weight back then lost it just as quickly. The never ending cycle of starving, binging, purging.
Starving, binging, purging.
Starving, binging, purging.
Nobody notices when I fall off track because disordered eating is only cared about when the victim is skinny enough that you can see the evidence. I have been terrified for four years to speak out for fear nobody would believe me when I told them.
No one expects a bigger girl to not know how to feed herself.
There is something to say about a culture so warped that I get upset by the fact I don't have a stereotypical eating disorder body.
Sometimes I wish it was more obvious, so at least that way they could see how hard I'm trying to be perfect... To fit in.
America, am I not sick enough for you already?
Jul 24, 2016
Jul 24, 2016 at 11:03 PM UTC
Has anyone heard about her?
This magnificent girl,
my fangirl parter,
the other half to the
photography duo?
If so, please contact me.
Todays her birthday,
and yes I'm a few hours late,
but I'd like to say a very
Happy Birthday
to my dear friend.
She has helped me through tough times,
and has been through a lot herself,
but she's a survivor.
She's MIA,
and I need my friend back...
Well, I hope she is doing well,
she's finally becoming a teenager
(but totally not a normal stereotypical one, who needs normal anyways?)
and I'm so proud. -tear-
She's come a long way and I've had the privilege of knowing her personally.
Hope you're okay and that you see this,
Maha.
Tata for now ;)
-Creep
Jan 22, 2015
Jan 22, 2015 at 8:23 PM UTC
let me equate my genitals
to a predatory animal
to illustrate my ****** prowess
and mating standards
in song:
my vampire squid don't
my vampire squid don't
my vampire squid don't want none
unless you got an anaconda ***
my disdain for your personality
and general mentality
is also strong, simply because:
i like *big ***** and i cannot lie
you other sisters can't deny
that when a boy walks in with a six pack
and a hose thing in your face
you get wet
disembodying objectification,
stereotypical representation,
hedonistic utilitarianism,
and *** ed with some rhyme:
black boy sippin' white wine
put my fist in him like a civil rights sign
then he came like aaaaah! (1)
Jun 11, 2015
Jun 11, 2015 at 5:26 PM UTC
He's broken, he's in pieces, he's trapped, in a black hole
He's crying, he's heartbroken, he's dying of loneliness
He's confused, his mind is overloaded, his todger is dropping off
He's this and that and that and this
projecting your ******* fears and insecurities on him
Hahaha...hahaha...hahaha...hahaha...hahaha
You know what....He's NOT....he's laughing at you
He's happy that you now realize there are still men out there
who transcend your ******* stereotyping and imbecilic assumptions .
He's still laughing because he now sees for ******* real
how immature and mentally underdeveloped a lot of you are
and how so petty, mediocre and easy to manipulate you are
Not to mention how weak, spineless and unable to handle pressure
so many of you are.
He laughing because you just act without fully thinking
You are a shallow lot, cowardly, infantile and narrow minded
You lack sound reasoning capacity and a lot of you are neurotic
He's laughing because most believe anything they are told
Unquestioning drones like a Labrador thrown a stick
Go fetch, off he runs, retrieve stick, pat on the head, good boy
Just simple minded followers.
He laughing because he's attained all he wanted
Got a good education, good self understanding, good morality
sensitivity, compassion, empathy, confidence and honesty
A well drilled man, adaptable, flexible, courageous and brave
A MODERN DAY SPARTAN.
He's laughing because you can't ******* take that away
He's laughing because he's shown you how a proper man is
He's laughing because he's invalidated your stereotypical
assumptions, your prejudices, your bigotry and your ignorance
He's laughing because you have confirmed your inferiority
exposed your fears and inadequacies and make others see how
damaged and vindictive you are
He's laughing because out of all only one woman has shown
magnanimity and she didn't belong to the class of the mediocres
Which proves the point that mediocrity goes hand in hand
with ignorance, fear and lack of Dignity and Integrity.
And he's laughing because he's got chutzpah
a big package
and a hell of "tener cojones"
hahaha...hahaha...hahaha...hahaha
[email protected] Sept 2018,Allrightsreserved.
Sep 7, 2018
Sep 7, 2018 at 9:54 AM UTC
Im watching over them...those freaks and perverted beast...the dark flesh that owns the land..I save them from there doom...keep them out those tombs...my job is to protect the sick...as I sit...I glimpse and I see a ray of hope...
Purity...from the ***** of my imperfection...I began to be aroused...thought about swooping down, in a single bound..being so cliche'..but I've since grown from my stereotypical ways....Cuz this world here ain't kind to no hero..this worlds only sin painted in a mural...But she could be the one...my chance to save the day!!...But they wanna **** the hero...they say **** the hero....Try to save the hoes...but I think I save a woman...kryptonite to my sins...She could be the cleanse...I could actually win...
-Dairy of a ****** superhero.
Mar 4, 2013
Mar 4, 2013 at 9:14 AM UTC
MONKEY IN A RED FEZ DANCING TO ABBA
I watch the children play
on a sunny Sunday in Rotterdam
like a stereotypical alien
studying humans.
Their cries rise and fall
like seagulls as they swing
sea-sawing or blurring into one
on a brightly coloured turnstile.
A man looking
like a badly drawn cartoon
turns the handle slowly of
a broken down barrel *****
A monkey in a red fez
dances on the end of a chain.
The barrel ***** spews out
everything from Abba to Franz Lehar.
The decrepit old man
and even more decrepit monkey
appear as if they have
stepped out of another century.
I am far from home.
The day is dying.
I read from my battered book
Hamsun's HUNGER.
It's lurid cover torn
half hanging on/off.
The park deserted now
as night steals its colours.
The last words of
of this the final chapter
are lost to me
swallowed by the dark.
The barrel ***** peersists
the soundtrack to some forgotten film
The monkey red fez
fallen at its feet.
The monkey blissfully
asleep.
The music caught
entangled in branches and leaves.
I watch the yellow lights
blossom one by one
a silhouette of houses
like a stage set.
Houses like cut-out silhouettes
a stage set.
The last lines revealed
under a passing lamp
"...where the windows shone so
brightly in every home..."
I laugh at such
a coincidence.
Leave the book on the bench
for some other me
to discover
when the sun comes up.
And return
to my space ship.
Aug 28, 2018
Aug 28, 2018 at 5:17 PM UTC
when made a designated drinker
for a designated driver.
when stomaching stale pabst
and rationed sweet cider.
when frat boys fulfill
stereotypical homophobia.
when twenty grade A reds
can't last me longer than a dream.
when old man nightclub and triple kills
usurp the crown of moderation.
when you fall asleep
with so much in your blood to spill
like beans,
or milk not worthy of tears,
and i keep a loom in my heart
where i weave a string of everyone
[with myself]
and every fray in warp or weft
is mimicked by the splinters
shuttled to my hand.
Apr 30, 2013
Apr 30, 2013 at 10:06 PM UTC
I want a relationship
That's anything but typical
One that defies cliches
And the definition of spontaneous
I want to be so in tune with another
To the point where it feels
As though a piece of me
Has crawled its way into him
Permanently
I want a relationship
That takes a detour from anything
Stereotypical
Such as dinner and a movie for a first date
To thrift store shopping
In the streets of Seattle
At dusk
While ending the night
At a warm cozy cafe
Situated on a quiet corner
In the shadows of the city
Where poetry is either
Softly spoken
Or bitterly belted out
From within one's own soul
On a rugged beaten-up stage
With nothing but a spotlight
Mic
And wooden stool
All while we sip on tea
(Because I don't like coffee)
And reminisce on the moments
Worth remembering
That were made that day together
In between fits of laughter
While secretly dreaming
About the future ones to be made
In the comfort of our minds
As we tightly grasp our warm mugs
In front of our lips
To hide the shy smiles
That dare to make an appearance
Sep 7, 2018
Sep 7, 2018 at 4:02 PM UTC
i am choking for words.
i hacked off the tip of my tongue
to spite my quick wit-
stumble over it.
lusting for beauty through text/
creation is hollow at best-
a dollhouse
a fantasy, dystopian as per usual
for an idle mind
losing hours and
pickled in hate's brine.
salt in the wound
salt in the wound
angst, angst, teenage angst.
a kiddie anarchist.
stop fighting it.
turn up the stereotypical.
depression playing on the radio.
don't try to be more original.
what haven't we seen?
choking for words and
stuck on painted portraits
all is well, but never exciting
i'm exiting this uneventful existence
all for once and once for all.
-and you thought there was a winner
buried in this chrysalis-
well, the rhythm has returned,
but i'm sick
of painted portraits and lost hours
and sugar-coated expectations of the truth
how uneventful, how unexciting
and i'm tired of razorblades,
but at least they're honest
speaking down, insults and
lies and i know i need to sleep
but i'm fighting it.
i'm ready to move on, but not for long
not for long and
you'll see me as a butterfly someday.
Jan 14, 2013
Jan 14, 2013 at 4:19 AM UTC
Teenage
don't cry
don't sorrow
don't worship
don't listen
don't hold back
don't have emotions
But in fact
teenage hide
teenage scared
tennage runaway because home is no better than the bearing streets of cruelty for at least I'll have control of my destiny
teenage try
teenage listen
teenage will help
teenage get nervous
teenage sometimes doesn't understand.
Little do you know TEENAGE will cry harder in room thinking about homework than the once youngling who scraped her knee.
TEENAGE. STILL. FRAGILE.
TEENAGE. STILL. UNCERTAIN.
Nov 18, 2015
Nov 18, 2015 at 2:47 AM UTC
Lymphoma
There was a fundraising run for lymphoma and other cancers
A little notice for it on top of the garbage can
at a home grown Jamba Juice right off the BART in Berkeley
It hit home: what I was up against
People don't run through the streets casually
and my cat had lymphoma
I couldn't find him last night for the first time
He had his weekly appointment and I brought in
something that didn't look at all like he was the week before
They paged the vet and she came in
saying thing like he needed an IV and tests and
wasn't there nothing else to do
didn't she say that
he needs hospitalization--his liver
we can't tell you what to do
but it would all go in a circle and come back
to a suffering being who had
come to the end of what science could do for him
what she was trying to tell me in her barrage of words
came through loud and clear
They brought him in
with a blanket and a catheter
and he struggled until he got warm and then rested
I wanted him to see me, as the last thing he saw in this world
She took the three syringes out of her white coat
Don't hurt him, just don't hurt him
my only request
There was no pain
Only relaxation, sleep and then at last no heartbeat
Her ability, her smoothness of execution was perfect
and he went limp in my arms
not suffering
The nurse took his body away
"It's the last gift we can give them" she said
and I imagined a man, a stereotypical
image of a man pacing back and forth in a white coat in front
of a lecture hall full of vet students saying that
exact thing and there was a serious air in the classroom and some wrote this down,
it was so true, sound, capable and final
but this woman said it
this veterinarian from Michigan
and through my tears and grief
there was some kind of undercurrent
of relief, that there is no more pain for him
He no longer suffers
and I did all I could do
Jul 27, 2012
Jul 27, 2012 at 8:39 PM UTC
I’m the most stereotypical teenager you’ve ever met.
I spend all my time with my friends.
I like frappuccinos and I’m obsessed
With my social media pages.
I fell in love with a boy;
And, when he broke my heart,
I sobbed on the floor for weeks
And then dyed my hair blonde and moved on.
I wore a pretty blue dress and sparkly heels to prom.
I graduated at the top of my class,
President of the honor society,
Friends with everyone.
I’m your stereotypical teenage girl.
I’m the main character in a Disney channel original movie.
I have everything, I think.
Why can’t I sleep at night?
What they don’t tell you in the movies
Is that when I’m not with my friends, I feel lost and alone.
When I was heartbroken, I fell apart.
I’m successful, but at what cost?
The stereotypical teenage girl gets 3 hours of sleep a night.
I spend most of the night doing work,
But I also spend time texting my friends and flirting with boys.
When I’m alone with only myself, do I still fit the stereotype?
Jun 7, 2021
Jun 7, 2021 at 2:34 AM UTC
The most beautiful thing I've ever read-
was a love poem that I found,
hidden between the dusty cupboards of my mother's room,
filled with things that just
"didn't matter"
anymore.
It was flooding with thoughts I waved off as-
"foolish"
with fake plastic vows of love,
not unlike those crisp, shiny valentine heart rings,
only given to the most attractive every February.
Stories of parting,
from which shone a glossy sparkle like that of a fake glass diamond,
labeled with black numbers as something worth a thousand.
I've always thought that if you were going to leave someone, you should be aloof and cold.
If you make "warm memories", won't the parting just be that much harder?
That sunset that was described as being unrealistically
ethereal,
I tried to see it myself,
even hooking my feet around the cold metal bars of the balcony,
and pretending that I could fly.
But that sunset was fake too, I discovered.
A synonym of those medals that you eagerly await to get, but in the end,
aren't gold,
or silver,
but just a sheet of mocking plastic,
thousands of identical ones of which have been made,
in a factory choking on smog,
thousands of miles away,
in China.
There was always that villain,
who would try to break the lovers apart.
Sometimes,
the villain was described as, "dark", and "Irresistible".
I was puzzled by that fact,
mulling obsessively over the idea,
Why didn't the protagonist get with the villain in the end?
I was undeniably jealous, of the heroine,
who seemed to draw everyone to her with a warm light,
that I didn't seem to have, no matter how hard I tried.
She was a perfect damsel in distress,
waiting for her partner, who would always,
always,
without fail, come to save her from danger and the unknown.
They were both risking everything for what they loved.
"Stereotypical love poem,"
I scoff,
willing myself to throw that piece of paper away with the trash,
But-
to this day, the most beautiful thing I have read,
is that stereotypical love poem,
now tucked between two bookshelves,
which are full of things, that
"matter"
now.
Jun 11, 2013
Jun 11, 2013 at 8:33 PM UTC
A- She is just like me. A leader. A strong, independent, bisexual woman, she controls the alphabet from this end, and everyone respects her.
B-He's a nice guy, a bit pretentious, but nothing too special. The first time I saw Friends, I new that Ross was literally the letter B incarnated.
C- B's best friend, goes by male pronouns, but is gender fluid sometimes. He is much more genuine than B.
D- One of A's closest friend. She is cool, and kind of like a bad *** English teacher.
E- A **** Your typical school bully. He's dating D.
F- E's wing-man, but like the stereotypical wing-man, he is kind hearted, but too much of a shy follower. And he likes D.
G- H's brother. Good student, slightly over weight, and just as homosexual as his sister.
H- The "mom" of the friend group. She is smart and supportive. My favorite lesbian of the alphabet.
I- A real cool dude. Spiky hair and sunglasses. He likes to lean against brick walls and just look cool. Very cool.
J- He is K's best friend.
K- She is J's best friend.
L- He hangs out with M, but not too much because he really isn't found of her littler sister N. He's too much of a wimp for my taste.
M- She is a really independent confident girl. She goes on double dates with O, P, and her sister N. She has a side thing going on with the letter A.
N- She lives in the shadow of her sister. She kind of reminds me of my own sister.
O- He is P's best friend, and always tells him what to do. He reminds me of E, but they've never met.
P- Let's O push him around. He hangs out with O, M, and N. But his true love is Q.
Q- She is quiet, but strong. She is madly in love with P. They sneak out together a lot. She has over protecting parents.
R- She is the leader of the Q-R-S friend group. A transgender and asexual bad *** She supports Q and P, but not S and T
S- Tries to listen to her older friend R, but is just a good kid making bad decisions. She has a HUGE crush on both T and U.
T- Loves U. Strong male, plays football and works at a car wash.
U- She's a princess. Very quiet and polite. In a relationship with T, but I don't know her true intentions.
V- U's older sibling. A-gender and a CEO of some big business.
W- Same personality as H, but not as motherly, and bisexual.
X- The third wheel to the X-Y-Z clan. Also agender, and really just a fly on the wall. They sees a lot, but really don't like to socialize. But they really like going to the zoo.
Y- Z's beta. Her best friend, and wife. They are ride and die ******* for life.
Z- Just like A. Exactly like A. Only she is in a committed relationship with Y. She controls the alphabet from this end, and everyone respects her.
Aug 5, 2015
Aug 5, 2015 at 2:08 AM UTC
I don’t like this game.
Hundreds of eager fingers,
Racing for recognition.
Racing for fame.
I don’t like this cliché.
Swooning women,
Making young hearts melt.
Putting the illiterate to dismay.
I really hate this irony.
Independent women,
Eager to be unique and obscene.
Conforming to age old stereotypical crap.
Apr 9, 2013
Apr 9, 2013 at 2:46 PM UTC
I’ll never start a fight
Indeed you start the flame,
And I’ll explode
Perhaps it’s my crimson hair that attack’s my soul
But stereotypical propaganda aside
I have nothing to hide
Indeed you call me out
I’ll trash your name
I live for love and peace
But there’s only so much hate one woman can’t escape
I beg for release
And pity your air
You walk with your noise so high
All just to hide your shame inside
All while making me look the fool
But I refuse to take blame for something I didn’t do
I’ll never start a fight, it’s beneath me
But I will finish it
And sometimes it’s in the unlikeliest of ways
But the best part is really just not caring what the hell you say
Your words rot and decay like ash to the wind
I like to blow them and spit fire, it’s just the way I am
I don’t take any kinda mess or fuss
It’s beneath me
©Jessica Stull
Dec 13, 2018
Dec 13, 2018 at 11:57 PM UTC
I saw her everyday
As I walked home from school
She would stand against that same “No Smoking” sign
I never really understood
How she could stand against that sign
And disobey it everyday
Or maybe she didn’t understand it
I mean after all she did stand there
In her fishnet stockings and 5 inch heels with money slipping out of those stockings
Smoking
Just smoking until there was nothing left to smoke on that ole cig
She smoked that thing religiously everyday
As if it would make her immortal
Although, ironically, it did the exact opposite
Maybe it’s like her
So stereotypical
But maybe she’s the exact opposite
She stands in those infamous heels and fishnet stockings
Like a stereotypical *****
But maybe she just got off her minimum wage part time job at the costume shop down the street
Maybe she’s not a stereotypical mother
But that doesn’t mean she’s a stereotypical ***** either
And she’s also not a freak nor an outcast
Just because she is NOT a stereotype
She’s just a person
Just a woman
Standing at that same “No Smoking” sign
In her favorite 5 inch heels and fishnet stockings
Who likes to smoke so much she may even think it’d make her immortal
Jan 22, 2017
Jan 22, 2017 at 6:55 PM UTC
They say beauty is in the eye of the beholder.
When I look in the mirror,
I do not see beauty.
Flaws.
Flaws.
Flaws.
Growing up in this generation,
it seems you are not beautiful unless you are
thin, tan, airbrushed, well endowed, etc.
The list goes on
And
On.
All I see are in the mirror are
Flaws.
Flaws.
Flaws.
Countless times I have wondered
Why can't I be beautiful?
When I was seven, I came home after
Doing makeovers with friends.
I asked my mom,
Am I beautiful yet?
She looked at me with sad eyes and said that I was always beautiful.
Of course, I didn't believe her.
All I see in the mirror are
Flaws.
Flaws.
Flaws.
Jan 21, 2014
Jan 21, 2014 at 11:16 PM UTC
The aftermath of betrayal
Those upon a corrupted throne shall witness my reign of anger
Though not stereotypical
My wrath with come a little bit stranger
Fury with grasp my fingers and lips
And I will dismantle their establishment using cunning as speartips
Dec 28, 2012
Dec 28, 2012 at 8:55 AM UTC