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a poem about love

a poem about love

roses are red

violets are blue

we’d be dead

if they knew.

staring at your jugs

you hid them with your hair

we shared some drugs

forgetting to care

about our secret affair.

taken, lonely and looking for a lay

we left the public’s eye

lovers for a day

the whole thing

one big fucking cliché.

told myself it was love

and slipped on a glove


I get so corny

when I’m horny.

Published inWeak Ass Poetry

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