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dlp Apr 2021
Hover sweet Heather, over the clover, under the thunder of the insect dragon.
Heal sweet Heather, heal the hurt, remove the dirt from my beer sausage; from my wretched, twisted and demented circuitry.

"Bring me my hot dog" my dear Debbie moans.
Morbid sighs, silken thighs, conceal the African butterfly.

"Buffy, Buffy , roughy toughy" the bit*h barks to her demanding dog friend.
"Buffy, Buffy, I've had enoughy!"

Painted lips, spill over hospital white. Chunks and hunks. Flotsam and jetsam of yesterdays lunch.

"Shaddap Shaddap!" her gray head shakes, quivers and quakes,
dispelling myths of flying flakes.
Dispersing moths, displaying snakes.
Arcassin B Nov 2014
By Arcassin Burnham



Everybody's wondering when I'll make the next installment of hate,
But now-a-days I just sit my room and contemplate,
Put myself in a demons position , just to get some credit,
I'm 17 , don't need no permission , just to get embedded in this life that I want,
And you basic poets changing all the words to different fonts,
Basically this will separate the *** holes from the *****,
And election day is coming , nobody cares what you want,

The only one I trust is melz, she won't let me down,
Even when I wasn't around for awhile with my simple frowns,
I still put in all the work of serving what I could,
And these simple minded ***** still got me misunderstood,
My new girlfriends a toughy , she don't give a ****,
Knock a ***** a out , and drop her from her luck,
I hate to bring my wrath apond those I truly hate,
With some of y'all I can relate in an instant rate,
My audience is growing, and my days are getting darker,
When you stare inside the mirror too long it becomes the mocker,
And when the birds fly while tracking your every move,
You will see better days , just need to get it soon,
I will put it all the line this time , if  you don't agree,
Short (change) for a small packs of dimes, its time to make twentys.
Hum
labyrinth Oct 2021
Seated in my lonely booth
Checking all sorts of goings-on
Of all things, nothing but the truth
I figured, is the most relative one
dlp Mar 17
Hover sweet Heather, over the clover, under the thunder of the insect dragon.
Heal sweet Heather, heal the hurt, remove the dirt from my beer sausage; from my wretched, twisted and demented circuitry.

"Bring me my hot dog" my dear Debbie moans.
Morbid sighs, silken thighs, conceal the African butterfly.

"Buffy, Buffy , roughy toughy" the bit*h barks to her demanding dog friend.
"Buffy, Buffy, I've had enoughy!"

Painted lips, spill over hospital white. Chunks and hunks. Flotsam and jetsam of yesterdays lunch.

"Shaddap Shaddap!" her gray head shakes, quivers and quakes,
dispelling myths of flying flakes.
Dispersing moths, displaying snakes.

— The End —