When the rythmn don’t mix,
The words go untold;
And the sounds go below.
When the lies don’t blend,
The feathers go untouched;
The kills go untrue;
The death go unnoticed.
What. What. What do we do for you oh Mr. Malfoy.
We have cars.
We have chairs.
And we really do have the seater’s laire.
If we could pull out a ding dong from your ass,
We’d waste no time;
We’d do it.
It may not be today;
It may not be tomorrow morning;
But we will come for you and pull it out.
Call it the righteous act.
If it matters to you,
Take it off.
If it craves your attention
Then let us boldly declare that this is the hour.
(C) 2014, Prosper B. Wealth.
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