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Flippant She-Creature Poem
Shall I compare thee to your mother's ****?
Thou aren’t more lovely, but more flatulent.
Rough winds do shake it; and bring on a farce
And all her clothes hath all too short a rent
Sometime too hot-headed of hell doth burn,
And often is the true nature exposed;
And every foul from fowl; my stomach churns,
By reason, or by nature's raging closed.
But thy infernal diet shall ne’er start
Nor gain possession of which now I grasp;
Nor shall we meet again; let’s stay apart,
When in eternal sounds the voice does rasp,
So long as men can breathe or eyes can cry,
So long lives this, and I bid thee goodbye.
Copyright © Flippant She-Creature | Year Posted 2012
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Flippant She-Creature Poem
I write this sitting in the kitchen sink
All my friends have left me behind.
I know not what I want or what I think
I have a dark and empty mind.
I fled to the outskirts of sanity
And I found I was not alone.
For I’m wont to be just a vanity
On the marbled desert we roam
How can one be sane in an insane world?
It’s much easier than you think.
Just remember that we can all be pearls
Our ever-changing world is pink.
So now I think this predicament is
Not as bizarre as it may seem.
And now I must wish you a good night miss.
Safe travels in this land of dreams.
Copyright © Flippant She-Creature | Year Posted 2012
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