A 1-vixen (poem) by cauchy3

A 1-vixen (poem)

All maids hang over

Like a vixen like the God

Smokes are from steels on fires

Bullets are corpses on pins


With maids

The tasks are wrong from rights

They are vixen

Peerless as pearls but numb is

They have no laws to run in


They are poisons in rums

Sparks in urns

Falsehoods in all foods are tang

Lives are slaps that face the turns


No more days

One cruel name

Among tiger in ages

And tears


Real pinkos

Bullets are corpses with pins

When their hands are opened

There are still torsions



On their gloves

Red in colours

Like dirty paints

On rain bows with darks


Bloods

All bugs

No redbuds are here

WE are true heroes


Pinkos

Has sign to kill

Dumb ass with foolish hands

But we are ants


Guns control the ends

Lick down on laps

Are the hanky pans?

Oh pinko are!


Kick the fleas in ears

Sounds are clear

Democracy has screws

Pinkos are spirals for years



Spatter waters like bloods

To wet our spats that own

Spring some cool fluids

In justices and man s living fields


Lives could be strained as water on bows

But not bloods

More vixens are living on

Bloods are for royal bonds


Today we put up easily

But who tear up our tears

All maids are mad in films

Gold are thick and thin


Bloods are for good bonds

But whores

Lick down on laps

Are you hanky pans?

Oh real pinkos



By Cheung Shun sang=cauchy3

http://laplace181.hyperboards.com