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A Clutch of Eggs

what I wouldnt do to get you in my clutches, crack a couple eggs, break my own legs to smoke a dutch with my duchess, through hazards ready to duke, Ill puke up a ruckus, refute a succubus and pay for a million knuckle sandwhich lunches, punch the paper until its vapor for that proper sustenance even if it shuts down the whole government, im thinking how am i gona date her cause love conquers, drives barbarians bonkers, berzerk over that twerkin, some booties deserve sponsors but more importantly its what her minds offers, attentive like attendees at a concert as nina simone saunters like an unstoppable monster, packing bowls of sugar, she aint going for that oscar, truth hurts sometimes lies are softer every dream fostered, ideal and pristine, christened with caramel and ice cream we scream, for these things cause sour grapes might need sweetening, id rather have attempted and lost, then walk off wondering, into that bitter sunset, spending eveings upsept and alone thinking of you wishing youd hit my phone no time for me might mean for someone else, or your over it all and time is for yourself rib cage pressin, bars of bones mufflin my internal percussion, tho my flow can sound like timpani typically im feeling terrifically, heart beat bumpin, like kids in a bouncy house on steroids jumping, *****cats click the mouse for all types of assumptions, tho this night i was punked by her junk, vacant spaces need stuffin

Copyright © | Year Posted 2013




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Book: Shattered Sighs