She played her dirty game
double entendres did flow
and they thought stupid me
wouldn't notice or know
then their dirty little interaction
took on a whole new logo
she enticed from him
his intimate naked photo
and an invitation for the fuck
of her sad little life
no matter how many times
he had asked me to be his wife
the little innocent witch from the north
at night on her wordy pc broom
swept away in an instance all that was mine
brought his desire into a frenzied bloom
Just a flirt that got out of hand
he said,as he mimed he still loved me
now I cry the oceans of pain
while he woes the treacherous She
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who is she, the one that killed every love and hoped she will be loved, is she a women, a mistress or a whore? I don't know the difference; I'm simply a man!
killea: Only she could tell you that Paul
Het lijkt mij zo te lezen dat het toch al einde oefening was, whoever SHE is.
killea: It's a rhyming poem, so what rhymes with she, G
pc broom....... fantastic!
me want one!
killea: me too sweetie
all cats are black in the dark June;-)
killea: yep Jan
killea: thank you Anne