Thy harlot's of the 21century.
Shalt' forgive themselve,
from using carnivorous element.
Up for 3 day's, and 3 night's.
Having a appetite, for more substances.
As they enter; the yard, with invisible money.
Now, want some of my toxic-drink.
Asking me, for a sip. No-Way!
Not on them sucky, up all-night lips.
O'er is tranlated: Over.
As, I reach in my pocket, with dead president in hand.
I gave each hooker, one dollar.
In this era, I came up with.
'Today, it is Hooker Dollar Day! '
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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