A woman's poem; Befor I lay down to sleep, I pray for a man who's not a creep. One who's handsome, smart and strong, one who loves to listen long, One who thinks before he speaks, One who'll call, not wait for weeks, I pray he's rich and self-employed, and when I spend won't get annoyed, pull out my chair and hold my hand, Massage my feet and help me stand.
A mans poem; I pray for a gymnast nymphomaniac with big tit's. that owns a pub with sky sport and loves to give head.
This doesn't rhyme but who gives a fuck. |