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| Topic: A WOMEN'S POEM | |
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He didn't like the casserole
And he didn't like my cake, He said my biscuits were too hard Not like his mother used to make. I didn't perk the coffee right He didn't like the stew, I didn't mend his socks The way his mother used to do. I pondered for an answer I was looking for a clue. Then I turned and smacked the sh!t out of him... Like his mother used to do. |
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 That is really a good one.
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OW...tht's gonna leave a mark!
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