Poetry Wears a Mask
Poetry is like a prostitute
Wearing a tight
Pink flamingo skirt,
Red high heels, with
Black fish net stockings,
Standing on a street corner,
Waiting for the next customer,
To make a purchase
Man, poetry is a ****,
She hits you in the gut
While she earns her pay,
She put on the red light display
When she removes her clothes,
Then, poetry wears a mask
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