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A Hangover
Contributed by
screwge
on
Monday, 2nd June 2008 @ 01:53:34 AM in AEST
Topic:
oops
|
In the morning, fore last Night jousts in pangs, Fore she recalls gins, or origins, And she is up for grabs, And any name sinks in its fangs; When any pauper nabs At the greasy feathers on her wings, When the sunlight lays siege On perfected rot and pecks in disarray At the impeccable softness of day -- And stains the thrushs throat that sings, Fore she remembers the antidote of rum To drown out the humdrum Villains who come and go, Leaving the doorway open for a skin, Or another accomplice Circa tombs of light-locked pumice,
She reaches for an aspirin To quell the shapeless sin.
Copyright ©
screwge
... [
2008-06-02 01:53:34] (Date/Time posted on
site)
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