"weist" poems
Your *** is one,
Surgeries done,
Still none,
Flat ***
Your back hurts,
When u be sitted,
Your *** is to blame,
'cuz it ain't fitted,
To be soft or round
But you try to get around
Hiding, sliding, binding,
Long black clothe,
Not to show,
But you know,
Your weist below,
Is a hoax.
Jun 7, 2017
Jun 7, 2017 at 9:44 AM UTC