Scenes Without A Home Theatre Doesn't Care Who Dies In The New Harry Potter Book
You;
Who everyone writes poems to, you; explain yourself. Reveal a form. It is impossible for so many to love you as they profess. Are you a Whore, Babylon? Are there snakes in your hair, are you the child of a Titan? They keep writing poems to you, to You, and what they are saying is inconsistent. Do you have red hair, you? Are you the prototype, black you are and beautiful? Who are you ,My Love, you ever-whore? How did you let all the others touch you? My Love, My Sweet, To A Rose, you whore! You slut! I will not stand for this! Reveal yourself! I want a five page double-spaced essay on this by tomorrow afternoon on my desk! Sweet Love, To…, A Maid, what do you hide? You can tell me, Love, I am but a wanderer on these shores and will soon be gone. The oak tree shall never know of your beauty, I will not tell him, he is a horrid gossiper. Who are you ,who everyone writes the poems to? Who are you whom high pitched adolescents sing lavicious odes to your thighs! How have they seen them? This is unseemly! It is unseemly! Explain yourself! You! To A Maid! She! Her! Who are you? Who are you?
Who everyone writes poems to, you; explain yourself. Reveal a form. It is impossible for so many to love you as they profess. Are you a Whore, Babylon? Are there snakes in your hair, are you the child of a Titan? They keep writing poems to you, to You, and what they are saying is inconsistent. Do you have red hair, you? Are you the prototype, black you are and beautiful? Who are you ,My Love, you ever-whore? How did you let all the others touch you? My Love, My Sweet, To A Rose, you whore! You slut! I will not stand for this! Reveal yourself! I want a five page double-spaced essay on this by tomorrow afternoon on my desk! Sweet Love, To…, A Maid, what do you hide? You can tell me, Love, I am but a wanderer on these shores and will soon be gone. The oak tree shall never know of your beauty, I will not tell him, he is a horrid gossiper. Who are you ,who everyone writes the poems to? Who are you whom high pitched adolescents sing lavicious odes to your thighs! How have they seen them? This is unseemly! It is unseemly! Explain yourself! You! To A Maid! She! Her! Who are you? Who are you?