The picky bitch sits beside me
And can't decide just what to be
Today she's trying to be cute
Yesterday she tried to find her roots
But always her bitchiness shows through
As she whines about both me and you
Her purpose in life is only to be a hoe
To get drunk and to snort blow
She'll be pregnant in just a few years
And her life will be summed up by her baby's tears
But for now she sits by me, not a thought in her head
And I stare at her, wishing that she were dead.
© 2005 Saschwann
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Printed from www.DarkPoetry.com/dp/10698/71781 on Thursday November 20th, 2008 09:54 PM
Certain elements © 1996-2008 Matthew Steven (matts.org)
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