ha-ha!
This little hole in the wall
A filthy, dirty place
Everywhere the bugs, they crawl
Scattered for the chase
When I leave you start to stall
And try to slow my pace
I think I have said it all
And threw it in your face
On my phone again you call
A number known to trace
Get me rolling bowling ball
And a can of mace
Hang you from a tree that’s tall
Tie you up with lace
Die right there, don’t you fall
A smile upon my face
Please login or register
You must be logged in or register a new account in order to
Login or Registerleave comments/feedback and rate this poem.