Those eyes were a perfect picture of gala
Where it mirrored the women dancing,
The shouts contained
euphoric dose of champagnes-
A perfect choice of tequila,
And bloody colored cherries were
but an adornment for the night.
What makes it grand
are the sniffing hungry bulls
that scoff around every bitch –
smells like an excited little pussy.
His eyes wore the brightest gleam
Of a .45 caliber pistol,
Ready to puff anytime-
How I love to glide my hands-
While I let his devious fraudulent eyes
Witness the wine gradually
Dripping from my golden chalice-
Oh, how I love to call it a night.
A 19-YEAR-OLD FEELING
4:12:00 PM |
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Our Poetry Session
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1 endeavored to criticize:
"euphoric dose of champagnes-
A perfect choice of tequila"
so, there is a party with different sorts of drinks?
45 caliber pistol--> 0.45 caliber pistol
as i see it, there is a man in a party and he's looking at women? am i right? wrong? haha. i'm sorry i'm bad at interpreting poems...
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