These cans are awfully big – I don’t see how they’re missed
Garbage piles up – on this medieval canvass
They make a mess – I clean it real good
It stinks all this trouble they conjured in the hood

Needles, Feces, dead Animals
Sometimes just resting Canibals
Yes, they eat meat, the Flesh Eaters
Too old to just lick Mom’s beaters

Yeah, this poem’s kinda tacky
But that job I couldn’t quite hack-eee
‘Twas constantly moving getting orders
Barked at while we swept the borders

And under somewhat beneath cars
On the side and then we saw stars
Since the hot monkey suits made us sweat
That job only left us really wet

Yes, greenhorns we were and we stayed
Since our only job was to obey
But we took what we got
Sore muscles for money…not too hot!

Yes, I know I’m not Paris
But I don’t need the harass
Or the coaxing, if you prefer
Not much new…another turd!


About bognetta

Love has been so much more powerful than other people's control. I think it's all love, but sometimes it doesn't feel like love. That is because so many people are defensive, protective, and do not care to trust in that four letter!
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