Is It Poetry
Twenty Or Thirty A Day - Poem by Is It Poetry
and how because, 'anally inflicted yours,
became a death sentence
and thousands of times and never once
crossing under, always looking to the full moon
saith you and never did he smell once of the rose
and now, being silent and full and sweet
diagnosed with the anally inflicted death sentence
and giving it away
twenty or thirty a day
all because of one anally retentive man.
It is quite an endeavor
and how many, may I ask has it caught?
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Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
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Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You