Tatum Poem by chris bowen, a.k.a to wit
Tatum
laid in plaid i had, like fourty times said i love you.kill graph? make me laugh and curse you
purses are more like intent.bent on destruction i function to vent.
rent be paid and de guys be laid and i can cure the scent.
whats dat smell but oh, holy hell
and i live to pimp.
roy rogers was cannon fodder to us
and i left the jip.
get my kicks on and rex and ricks and then i get my sip.to tip.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/25/2024 6:15:53 PM # 1.0.0.1119
