Ode to my mom's ex
"Petty People"
Ode to my mom's ex
A priest was received at a reception
From his perspective
He noticed the deception:
't was all beforehand written rhymes
The worst-staged play of all times
The prescribed proceedings
Prudeness, paying due respect
Were a mere procrastination
Of the rudeness following that
With false passion and compassion
Preached the patron of the house
All those things practiced for fashion
Petty vainness, how about that?
And in his desire to please
He forgot to feel at ease
But he's happy I suppose
With his houses, cars and whores.
For no woman with selfrespect
Will lay in a bed next to THAT
If she will she's either poor
Or, as earlyer said, a whore.
He's worse than a pig, in the end
A pig's loyal to the feeder's hand
Gentleman here would sell his mom's grave
If a profit could be made
He whom I describe in this poem
Will not read it ever, though
He felt proud, as a matter of fact
When figuring out 2nd grade's math.
English's way out of his grasp
But in case he reades this crap
Jacques, do know, you old fat pig
Your son's just like you, a prick.
I'd curse you more, you petty swine
But it's a shame of my time
And at that, you soulles liar
Byebye,
PS: I hope you're fired.
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