View Full Version : Poo Rhyme

06-14-2012, 04:19 AM
A specific sermon certain to satisfy serpents,
so lift the turban first and then split the curtains,
written verses hit the nerves, confirmed to fit the purpose,
scripted words blur as they merge, the litmus bursting,
conflicted merchants burdened, the hit's worth undetermined,
gifted wordsmiths burn with the urge to spit their work 'n-
emerge from rehearsals like victims of a murkin',
shrivelled and restricted in the mix like pickled gherkins,
brittle persons hit the turf as missiles split the surface,
little nurses curse as the hit's condition worsens,
vision blurs as visitors sit and listen, nervous,
till it occurs that it's a certain trip in fitted hearses,
the skittish surgeon learns it's his nerves that did the work here,
fiddles with the words to be turned in as he smirks, fear-
he's not immersed in as his third gin hits his first beer,
the serpent is birthed in his worst sin as he lurks near.