Trickbag Poem by Cigar Aficionado

Trickbag



Walking I fell off into her
Rose
was cool
waiting to be murdered.
She is a natural trickbag
one of those who never is
kicking screaming or soil-
ing her self perfect trick-bag
just ask MuRder-RapSidy-
Trick-bag-Song-Ghettoed.

Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Topic(s) of this poem: murder
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