|Blogs > bri_tish > Wait! I haven't finished yet|
A last poem.
Sleep with the crabs, wake up with lice.
It was a misdirected, over protective,
but very malicious, even viscious,
pre-emptive strike, full of invective
a juggonaut spike, that torpedoed the cruise,
bailing water proved inaffective,
and the view of the few got it's due
We could have sailed on made port
but the crew came up short, made sport
turning on the unarmed skipper,
and letting the shipworms rip her
to pieces, drilling into the hull
then hoisting the crossed bones & skull
opened the cocks and let in the ocean
with some indignant notion that they were hip
that's what sank the good ship!
so good night, toodle pip,
don't let the anchor slip
and when you see the icebergs tip
it may be too late, and fate will be
awaiting thee, at the bottom of the sea.
And if perchance your body floats,
to some strange beach that has no boats,
you'll have time for remorse at your blunder
with no-one to help you go a fathom under.
.......and all who sink in her.
10/5/2005 8:11 pm
Just a girl with a 'cavalier' attitude
about peoples rights & the neaning of rude
Made noise, no poise, only poison pen
she even bought toys but then again
if her 'flicker-flame' was a man and she came
with him and she didn't call someone elses name
at the critical time; the point of climax
stopped her in her tracks, her ego cracks
with her mental health, she couldn't use stealth
"She wouldn't know the truth 'less she wrote it herself"
So she fought for her man anyway she can
by pulling down to the ground the sweetest in town
playing games calling names posting flames
it's all the same, redirect the blame, what a shame.
So her first time post the groups toast was the most
foul roast of a gracious host. We're not supposed
to make ugly quip, so stay your lip, get a grip
cause every snip and slip, together sank the ship.