My ol higue, you inspire me to write.
How I hate the way you peal, suck and fly,
Invading my mind day and through the night,
Always dreaming about the ugly eye.
Let me compare you to a tired crust?
You are more cunning, disgraceful and keen.
Past deed toast the last frolics of August,
And summertime has the past dream.
How do I hate you? Let me count the ways.
I hate your stunning fire, skin and teeth.
Thinking of your disgraceful skin fills my days.
My hate for you is the inspired leith.
Now I must go away with a spaceful heart,
Remember my clean words whilst we've part.
Copyright © Kevon Worrell | Year Posted 2020
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