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andy fardell Jun 21
Ti's my beauty on the inside
You seek
A picture no one can see
Be blinding a want

Yet to all on the out
No wish
No call
No asking a smile

Inside I'm whole
Complete
Be ripe as a peach
Just lush you see

Unlike Nick
He's Mr nasty
Tastes like a bad pasty
With hair really queer
And a breaths heart attack

He never comes clean
His nose always streams
All snotted his beard
And clothes really weird

He drives like a *****
We call him Miss Nancy
So next time your out
Just give him a shout

Yooooo Miss Nancy
Laura Parsley Aug 31
There's a special kinda hell
That's being built for you
Every brick
It is built on sick
And suckerd into bile
I can't pull you out
You're holding on with a smile
The grim puddle swallows us all
A churning yet gentle draw
I've tasted so much yellow foam
Snotted, slobbered, begged & moaned.
But nothing more now sits within
Only a boaking rancid thing
You sit in the front room and we grin
The kettles on the Turnocks are in
But the offering is oversweet
It tastes like nausea
And smells like feet
A candy-covered slimy gack
If I swallow another drop
I won't get back

— The End —