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| >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Romance/Love >> ID #1729962 |
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A cigarette smoked to the butt –
She smiles, “You're a bleeping nut…” This young man seeks his gavel thrust, As ladies judging trials must! Standing on the edge of doom, As she sweeps floors with a broom, The clock strikes twelve, so it’s noon, While I trigger much buffoon… The motor purrs within congestion, But a lot of cars cause indigestion – A regal life shall horrifically worsen From folks who say you must be nursin’. Confidence blends with trial and error – Sensitivity is bent with terror… They say a man who can’t is superior, But our recent past shows we’re inferior… This unit of measure for fashioned things Is not for when our telephone rings; It’s for those who sing with pride – Showing their respectful side!
© Copyright 2010 Tim Chiu (UN: mirtx at Writing.Com).
All rights reserved.
Tim Chiu has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work. |