Iliterate Poet

A dumping ground for my works in progress.

8 Nov 2012

Dangle Dong

Something's rotten, wrong in the bottom-fat, top-long.
Creepy, eerie open-closed behind a beautiful rose.
That mean in suits and powerful groups dangle dong.
The few have absconded and strangled, they chose.
Under DuRESS they whistled a tune to a sinister song.
True, they knew the emperor lost more than clothes.
The square is stretched, pulled and shaped oblong. 
Spaghetti triangles show every angle to undisclose.
But there's too many knowing now, for far too long.
If you made your bed too short, expect cold toes!
Freaks, plebs, geeks and normal peeps will fight along.
But will the lords of the dance right their wrongs?


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