Diaper Alert
My God!
what's in yond wind yee broke
doth burn mine eyes
and make me choke.
Such bitter breeze
such wafting savour
assaults mine senses
which flee in terror!
No sewage pit
nor stagnant mire
cans't rival thine
unholy power.
A road dead skunk
in a summer's swelter
would smell more like a rose
most precious flower.
What cursed perfume
thou villainous rouge
doth linger in thine wake
be gone and find your mom I say
it's her turn for goodness sake!
Copyright © Running Wolves | Year Posted 2017
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