Yeh

yeh,

pouting, pointless, lipless beauty

with those big, pretty eyes

green, blue,

doesn’t matter

there’s nothing particular

nothing memorable,

about the likes of you

you, who

make them go weak at the

knees

making them abuse themselves at

night

gasping for air

clutching hollow bones

whilst thoughts of your body

explode in their

feeble, sweaty little heads

but to me,

you reek of boredom

complete and utter

cheapened

boredom,

yeh

Categories: Poetry

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