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imported>ElitistPedantofCanada
Created page with '<poem> But, soft! What queer through yonder posting speaks! A faggot, sure, but what a way to be - Fat cock inside your ass until it squeaks, To gargle sperm inside your thro…'
 
imported>ElitistPedantofCanada
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{{Infobox
|Box title = You Cannot Write
|Row 1 title = Type
|Row 1 info = Poetry, Sonnet
|Row 2 title = Author
|Row 2 info = Anonymous
|Row 3 title = Sauce
|Row 3 info = 4chan's /lit/
}}
<poem>
<poem>


But, soft! What queer through yonder posting speaks!
But, soft! What queer through yonder posting speaks!
A faggot, sure, but what a way to be -
A faggot, sure, but what a way to be -
Fat cock inside your ass until it squeaks,
Fat cock inside your ass until it squeaks,
To gargle sperm inside your throat with glee.
To gargle sperm inside your throat with glee.
So lame! You jest a "thee" and balk at "thought"
So lame! You jest a "thee" and balk at "thought"
While mumbling through lips stuffed with pink, hard dick.
While mumbling through lips stuffed with pink, hard dick.
I'll make you choke, you puffed-up sniv'ling cow.
I'll make you choke, you puffed-up sniv'ling cow.
The thought of what you do, I retch - It's sick.
The thought of what you do, I retch - It's sick.
Too bad you cannot write a line that's good:
Too bad you cannot write a line that's good:
A line that flows, a phrase that is not crap.
A line that flows, a phrase that is not crap.
Just end this farce and cede, you know you should.
Just end this farce and cede, you know you should.
My poem fucks you: dildo with a strap.
My poem fucks you: dildo with a strap.
Your anus, raw, a pulsing mass of rot,
Your anus, raw, a pulsing mass of rot,
I thrust so hard, I'll rupture your g-spot.
I thrust so hard, I'll rupture your g-spot.


</poem>
</poem>

Revision as of 05:24, 20 May 2010

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<poem>

But, soft! What queer through yonder posting speaks! A faggot, sure, but what a way to be - Fat cock inside your ass until it squeaks, To gargle sperm inside your throat with glee. So lame! You jest a "thee" and balk at "thought" While mumbling through lips stuffed with pink, hard dick. I'll make you choke, you puffed-up sniv'ling cow. The thought of what you do, I retch - It's sick. Too bad you cannot write a line that's good: A line that flows, a phrase that is not crap. Just end this farce and cede, you know you should. My poem fucks you: dildo with a strap. Your anus, raw, a pulsing mass of rot, I thrust so hard, I'll rupture your g-spot.

</poem>