:|
Went to Germany to procure some sausage. Brought it back. In my pants. Went to Yukimura's party. Wearing meaty pants. Beautiful things occured. But, like it always does, the high died down and reality slammed into my face, shattering my glasses into shards of angst. I am in pain. But I am a Seigaku Buchou, and a Seigaku Buchou does not register emotion. :| Instead, we write poetry.
Here are three poems that came from my heart.
01. "Reflections in the Meat"
I'm sorry that me and my wurst
Conspired and took advantage of you
That sausage-y kiss was our first
I wish this were tennis so I could "fault" and redo.
02. "Undressing for Bed"
*click*
Sometimes I wonder what you would think
If you realized the reason I wear
This frilly, lavender underwear
Is because you are watching.
*click*
03. "Wimbledon"
Choke on balls, F.
Die, pillar stealer, die.
Aa, time's up, bitch, close your eyes.
Choke on balls, F.
Why are you still alive.
Why. Die, pillar stealer.
Die.
Die.
Die.
:|
Edited to include a limerick I wrote for inverse_282 .
In lavender panties I strut;
Some say I've a marvelous butt.
But I prefer sausages to ass,
A juicy, fine wurst displays more class,
It's not the size but quality. (What. :| :|)
Here are three poems that came from my heart.
01. "Reflections in the Meat"
I'm sorry that me and my wurst
Conspired and took advantage of you
That sausage-y kiss was our first
I wish this were tennis so I could "fault" and redo.
02. "Undressing for Bed"
*click*
Sometimes I wonder what you would think
If you realized the reason I wear
This frilly, lavender underwear
Is because you are watching.
*click*
03. "Wimbledon"
Choke on balls, F.
Die, pillar stealer, die.
Aa, time's up, bitch, close your eyes.
Choke on balls, F.
Why are you still alive.
Why. Die, pillar stealer.
Die.
Die.
Die.
:|
Edited to include a limerick I wrote for inverse_282 .
In lavender panties I strut;
Some say I've a marvelous butt.
But I prefer sausages to ass,
A juicy, fine wurst displays more class,
It's not the size but quality. (What. :| :|)