Barcoo Bitch


Seven - Poem by Barcoo Bitch

There were seven cops at a Christmas feast
Lying cowards to say the least
The seven were drinking till laste that night
There were seven cops as high as kites
They were seven assaulters, seven abusers, seven thugs, seven accusers
The seven cops were the offenders
Seven lying pig pretenders
The seven coppers with no conscience
Went to court and dribbled nonsense
Seven piss weak inherent liars
One magistrate definately biased
Seven cops made the innocent out to be guilty
Their seven cop souls are stinking and filthy
The seven should never have worked again
But the seven were proted then
SO the seven cunts are still around
They should be buried in the ground
They should have gone to meet their maker
They should be with the undertake
I hope their days are living hell
For the seven truths they'll never tell
For the seven truths they should have told
We'll damn their seven filthy lying souls
For the seven souls with no remorse
Just should now take it's course


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Robert Frost

Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening



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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, July 10, 2012



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