"taboule" poems
The boss at christmas is named John
He runs a church festival on the church lawn
His staff doesn't know the difference
What? They couln't refference?
Between a platter and a plate
And I don't know what the hell I ate?
One Shishkabob and rice
Ain't that nice
Humus was so gross
From your heads to your toes
Taboule is suppose to be some kind of salad
Won't someone make this into a ballad?
Overpricing
and that's the icing!
Belly dancing
And people prancing
A band and A DJ
and that's okay!
What else more can I say?
After all these years he's still cheap
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Aug 29, 2014
Aug 29, 2014 at 5:46 AM UTC