She Sells Death
He cheats on me by night
And beats me by day
Oh what shall I do about this fray
Well I know a lady who sells death
One bite and in Hell he shall lay
The concoction is simple not hard to make
Slow cook it a hour and ten minutes to bake
It tastes like heaven
But I promise he'll be dead by seven
It contains a little of this
And a lot of that
A little goat's urine
And a pinch of devil's fat
And by morning
You'll be in mourning
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
