The Wintry Voice of A Wench

Take a walk for a mile in my shoes?

like the vile of your own issues

stark naked  beneath the summer linen

A shudder,  the bellowing winds of a villain

Pardon me sir, with the slur as thick as shit

Excuse my french, fuck things up a tidbit

A shot of scotch like a rich bitch

As sober as a judge, Mary Poppins

Subdued, here is some sewing and pins

May 17th big things popping

What do I know I am just a blithe broad

in-sync like the lithe body of a ballerina

could have been an ode

But that is an ill fit literary odd

What is a plight of a wench?

The bottom of a vodka bottle , avenge.

 

 

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