poem

[stabag]

So... Where's the salad?

[~~~~Closed~~~~]

feel apart of something ancient, timeless and bigger than the both of us
A lighting bolt of warmth, ripped through me and landed in the pit of my heart,I felt your thoughts graze my soul.
I know I'm extremely venerable and the reality of this situation only makes it more appealing
Trusting you is so raw, so new. And suddenly the world makes sense.
Sp please understand that my bleeding heart is on my sleeve for you and everyone else to see
Don't bruise me, I was already raped once...........

still a crappy poem.

[MedeoPlusPlus]

feel apart of something ancient, timeless and bigger than the both of us
A lighting bolt of warmth, ripped through me and landed in the pit of my heart,I felt your thoughts graze my soul.
I know I'm extremely venerable and the reality of this situation only makes it more appealing
Trusting you is so raw, so new. And suddenly the world makes sense.
Sp please understand that my bleeding heart is on my sleeve for you and everyone else to see
Don't bruise me, I was already raped once...........

still a crappy poem.

At least she's living up to her standard.

[~~~~Closed~~~~]

now if only she could surpass it.

[MedeoPlusPlus]

now if only she could surpass it.

Next stop, Dr. Seuss!

[Rupert Giles]

now if only she could surpass it.

Next stop, Dr. Seuss!

And on your right, you'll see the Corpse of Dr. Seuss, spinning above his grave.

[Charlemagne]

Why do people keep on making whine poems? Yeah, you had a crappy husband. Buhu! So you've been raped? Buhu!
Think of the poor children in Africa, born with AIDS into a life of starving and sexual abuse by military guerilla members. Now, is your crappy husbadn taht bad a man? No!

Besides, happy poems are much nicer.

[stabag]

Rape and pillage!

[Rupert Giles]

Rape and pillage!

The Viking Song
By Gunnbjorn Gunnarsson,
who has written serious stuff but this is all anyone remembers.

Code Select Expand


         (To the tune of Monty Python's "Lumberjack Song")

              CHORUS:
              I'm a Viking, and I'm OK;
              I rape and pillage for my pay!

         We chop down trees, we build long ships,
         We sail across the sea;
         We're not too keen on shopping,
         So we practice robbery!

              CHORUS

         We chop down doors, we knock down walls,
         We burn the churches down;
         We put on funny helmets
         To party in your town!

              CHORUS

         We like the Franks, they got nice things;
         We like to rob them blind.
         Their women are so willing
         To help a man unwind!

              CHORUS

         The Saxons are no fun at all,
         They like to bitch and moan.
         They got this king named Alfred
         Who pays us to stay home.

              CHORUS

         When I get home, I kiss the wife
         And give the dog a bone.

         (spoken) ...or have I got that backwards?

              CHORUS


[Charlemagne]

Vikings did not have horned helmets. <-- Fact

[Horab Fibslager]

Vikings did not have horned helmets. <-- Fact

i know some vikings who disagree.

[Trollax]

Vikings did not have horned helmets. <-- Fact

i know some vikings who disagree.

Some surely did, but I doubt it was as common as is made out otherwise the aurochs would have become extinct much earlier than 1629 :P

[MedeoPlusPlus]

What's the plural of aurochs?

[Trollax]

What's the plural of aurochs?

Ninja!  

[sexygrrl69]

Love Halo-Cost

Everyone steps to the edge only to run back to the mundane and routine
Their safely coccooned drinking in the rules just like Hennessy
Because a structured and neat emotions, makes you a woman wanted by many
When they look a upon us do you think they secretly wish they could wear their scar so proudly also?
Maybe they wish they can jump down from that edge to the awaiting abyss below?
Just for the thrill.
Our hearts openly on display for those that ask, bleeding L's into the front of our Polo tennis shirts.
You can see the repulsed looks from acres away.
Yet you still crave to be us, if we were all Jesus Christ they would still stone us.
Knee deep in their own sh!t and yet their souls are shallow, they pick and they tear at our flesh hoping to find out our secrets.
That only last so long before they start clawing there way inside out.
The dead walk and they use batteries to keep the formaldehyde flowing
Do you think they suffocate on air, like we do on their pungent fumes?
Do you think they think?