By the roadside she sat;

Legs thrown wide open to their glistening interior reveal,

And chest pushed out

To reveal breasts packed in small cups struggling for freedom.

With face painted like a circus clown

And lips coated in blood red she made sounds, sloppy sounds

To wanton attention attract,

To her glistening unholy body,

And her cursed interiors

That boasted on nothing but quick sweetness and eternal death.

And wanton attention she did attract,

For at her sight did men drool, wanton men,

Looking to their piddle lusts gratify

Little did they know, that

Empty vessels make the most sounds

Soon shall they sway to the sickly tunes of the death

And their souls bound for the city called Hades.

By WORDSMITH Posted in Poems

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