Thousand man sore

Thousand man sore

A Poem by Red_Queen

Pass me around.


Everybody hate you but they want some more.

Passed out, dead to the world, on the floor

You leave no room to open the door.

Now all you are is a f*****g w***e

Your lips are covered with the thousand man sore.

The apple of thier eyes, Till you start to bore.

© 2008 Red_Queen

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Strong. I like the brevity, emphasizes the brusque message. Kinda like a "wham, bam, thank-you mam" I especially liked the last line " the apple of their eyes until you start to bore". Isn't that how it always is with everything ? Nice job.

Posted 12 Years Ago

1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

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1 Review
Added on April 9, 2008



Oceanside, CA

Hello Yes it's really ,e and yes i might just be back. After a long absence from writing i think i just might be getting back into it. so thats all for now hope to read some of your stuff peace... more..

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A Poem by Red_Queen