Truths You Can Feel Their Flesh
A baby you left to stay
You’ve licensed to stray,
For find it shall its way
To some paradise bright or grey.
An ass you kept at bay,
No fodder on its tray,
Won’t spare you a bray:
A way of having its say.
Your stacks of green hay
You didn’t sun all day
You’ve okayed their ***** decay
And shouldn’t to this say ‘Nay’.
One with millions to pay.
In tears begins to pray:
The unlikeliest to look gay,
The likeliest to start a fray.
All these: truths you an feel their flesh
Like that of predatory thresh.
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