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OLD RAKEMOUTH

Contributed by matariel on Friday, 24th April 2009 @ 11:32:50 AM in AEST
Topic: SadPoetry

Old Rakemouth,
Who got you now?
Should a man or woman, take a bow?
Rakemouth, you know you know better
A bulbous belly stuffed in a sweater
Wiry hair, and hands of ice
Yet still up for every pleasure and vice
The form of a woman, but not that of Venus
You answer his call, but he didn't mean us
No, you've let yourself go, old Rakemouth
Maybe you can pack up, then head down south
With thick towers of lard, shifting and white
supporting your meticulations, every day and night
Maybe you should reform yourself, maybe get clean
Who cares what he thinks, who cares if he's mean?
Old Rakemouth, that name suits you well
You could be living in Heaven, but instead you chose Hell
You let yourself go, but held onto that old man
It's time for you to get up, it's time for you to make a stand
Old Rakemouth

Copyright © matariel ... [ 2009-04-24 11:32:50]
(Date/Time posted on site)

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