We went round and round,
on that hell above the ground.
Round and round we went,
on these "cute" pink teacups to repent.
For whatever we have done,
we paid for as we spun.
Let our shame and regret no longer exist,
for as our bodies were turned inside-out,
on this ride of the sadists,
we have become pure again!
On this ride of the puke fetish,
we know exactly what we did wrong,
and how much we paid for when we finished.
Round and round we span,
on the teacups of the damned.
YOU ARE READING
CLUCK NO
PoetryA collection of both emotional and humorous poems about growing up and other frustrating parts of life that'll sound alright in your head, but just plain stupid out loud. !!!WARNING!!! This is not a compilation of chicken poems.
