Pulsating shaping your name
Rotting disgusting smelly farts
Is the fragile frame
Which keeps us sane
They told me that love was a marvellous thing
A great blizzard of pink snow and thunder
But as I lay dying in your cums unchanging stink
I can only seem to wonder
About the tragedy that lies yonder
It's funny how a poet can only seem to describe
The flabbergastering truth that love hides
And it's gooly how, when you find it you do
Realize with regret that love is indeed
Only too good to be true
