POEM 7 . Pigs By Lord Mothson . Boys who are kids, they love to play, With toys and dirt, all night, all day, Dont care of themselves full of grime, As if clean white shirts is a notorious crime. . Boys who are teens, they love to play, Breaking the hearts of girls they prey, Lying about being single, And destroying the hopes of girls they mingle. . Boys in college, they love to play, Under the mattress, night to day, Banging every woman at school, Thinking it is awesome, up-to-date, and cool. . Boys in their thirties love to play, And waste their lives in a bad way: Break-ups and stuffs will cut their breath, By smoking and drinking, at night clubs, to death. . Boys whore forty, they love to play, With maids and cooks when wifes away, With younger dames, single and free, Smiling like a fool as he thrusts his machete. . Boys, in general, love to play, On various things, in various ways, They think of girls as were a game: As were a plaything--thats so lame! . For I knew a boy once in my life, Thought I could trust him, make me his wife, But all he did was bed me and come, And leave me lifeless when hes all done. . To make things worse, he left me a cell, Which made my tummy blow up and swell, I thank you, Boy, for being a jerk, Reminds me that Im more than a twerk. . So, you cant blame me, if I hate boys, Who think of girls as nothing but toys, For I think of them as pigs and fools, No-good, worthless pile of stools.
Posted on: Sun, 25 Jan 2015 13:45:08 +0000
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