pssive w nker


Off The Cuff … Of A Bone (A Rebutt) - Poem by pssive w nker

Tonight …

off the bone and against the dry …
my siren swirls and does not cease fire

Your voices lift me to burn with desire
and if the raconteurs or the Gods
were just a little pleased
once more I’d go down and bend my tree

So...
stay fit, keep health and spore me ample
I’ve had a taste and I’ll keep the sample..

Of famine and pest I shudder to think
but please come to bed I want to drink

Listen to this poem:

Comments about Off The Cuff … Of A Bone (A Rebutt) by pssive w nker

There is no comment submitted by members..



Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?



Poem Submitted: Wednesday, February 11, 2009



[Hata Bildir]