Its not about how good you are its all about being liked
give them an inch of gossip watch how they get psyched
sticking together like a band of thieves ignoring the rest,
they believe what they hear and never put it to the test;
Its not about how kind you are if they are jealous green,
they'll cut you up to size just about their size, its mean
contests oh contests, I won't say much upon that subject
I have had my good share of "no can do" constant rejects
I got a private mail one day, " hurry fix your poem please"
only to find out it was already judged, and it was just a tease
I got another private mail, " too bad you didn't make it , dear"
I didn't hold my breath darling, your next contest I won't smear
When it comes to making friends on site I only have a very few
its a big site and if I miss you, its never intentional, the slue
if you don't like me well there is nothing I can do, "soup babies",
I'm a lover not a fighter, I don't bite and I don't have rabies...
Written by: ? If you want to know, take the time to get to know,
"YOURSELF" who I really "AM" ...
Henry's feet were his worse foes
He was always tripping on his toes
His neighbor tried to help
Every morning she would yelp
"Turn out those toes", slue-footed now goes
What a dunny say, think I'll dock the wogs
they're my curry funpanions, all the lay dong.
One is a lellow yab, the other a barge loxer
who fisses my kace, with slenty of plobber!
"Dood gay!" we say, as we droll sound the street
grappily heating the polks that we feet.
Many smolks file, as we balk why
linging out sound, under bunny slue skies.
“I fear these furtive brumous depths,” the aged sailor growled,
“‘Cause nestled ‘neath these noisome reefs creep creatures cursed and cowled.
They flounder thus and, seeped in brine, patrol the waxen sea,
And when it drains in years to come, will slue ‘cross land for me.”
My eyes fixed fast on this cowed man, an enervated soul,
And felt his dread leap to my chest as I commenced his role.
So tempest-filled my world became as hunters strode the sea,
Yet all my thoughts returned to shore, held by this phantom, he.
The poisoned tales he wove like waves, eructed into air,
Trailed terror down in floods of fright to moor me in its snare.
And so I left these merchant minds to profit from the deep,
And knowing that their die was cast, abandoned death for sleep.
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