| May 19 - 18:53:50 |
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| Poetry Hour :Host: St00pid | Started by: Slightly`St00pid on May 16, '08 12:59 |
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The crowd gathers around the streets with the only light creating visibility coming from the street lights in row along the side walks. From the shadows comes a creepy voice declaring contest. "Thank you for showing, I hope you enjoy the read. If you feel the need to do so, you are free to share you own mafia related poetry. Mind you there is to be no Plagiarism, if your caught doing so, you will be laughed at while I force feed you hash brownies. For those who are thinking of doing it just for the chocolate delight being shoved down your throat, just don't do it." My Gun "Tempted by the sight of forgiveness, "Struggling with the thought of Darkness, "With every pull to the Trigger, "Lies a soul to be remembered, "With every sound of the crack, "Lies a body on it's back, "With every smell of the powder, "Lies a entity in the water, "With every feel of the steel, "Lies a corpse who had to squeal, "With every sight of the flash, "Lies a individual corrupt by cash, "The rules teach you to trust no one, "So for now all I trust is me and my Gun. Applauds come from the crowd "Thank you very much for your time, feel free to share your own. Until next time this is your Host the one and only St00pid saying, if it isn't poetry, it isn't right!" The man lights a Joint in the cover of the shadows and vanishes. |
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Tum tee tum, tee tum, You take it up the bum. I thank you. |
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| Reply by: RayPust at May 17, '08 10:36 | |
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