My dream of a fantasy may never come true,
If I hang out at sites,
with the likes of you.
Bend over, grab your ankles,
you tell little kids,
The ones who are fortunate,
They didn't have s.i.d.s
You float like a butterfly,
an sting like a B
You mess with my wife,
and your messing with me.
It's not April Fools,
or kids with out shoe's
It's the much less vulnerable,,,
the ones with no clues?
You look so pristine
the fool Moon with a sheen
come late October
when the bee's have no clover
I'll dress like a dog,
It's called "Halloween"
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Submitted by:
scooter
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