Wednesday, 8 September 2010


Demeanour me, libertine, have you no standards at all?
You weigh up your morals as you fall to your knees and crawl
Philanderer, you cannot digest more than scum in your squall,
Yet somehow, I still reduce myself to be your thrall.
Humble me, Don Juan, unrestrained slime, I want more.
Exploit my needs; I wallow in your rapport.
Your trust is untamed, and I have been framed by a whore,
Foolishly utilized and spat out again for a score.


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