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| >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Other >> ID #1603892 |
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Husband number seven,
Thought what the heck, So I broke his neck, It only took one date; Husband number eight; He didn’t get very far, When I poisoned his cigar, Then I drank some wine; Husband number nine, A brick to make his car accelerate, They found him in a local lake, I took his ballpoint pen; Husband number ten; Burnt alive with a match, Shame, he was a catch, Had moved from Devon; Husband number eleven; Jumped without a parachute, Gained from the lawsuit, The police didn’t solve; Husband number twelve; He had a sharp tongue, They found him hung, That was fun; Wife number one. Now enjoying married life. I’ve finished killing, For now.
© Copyright 2009 Andrea Jones (UN: findyourfear at Writing.Com).
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