D.U.I. Bob & Bumble Bee 🐝🍼

Poetry Site Harassment Deep Underground - (18+) Audience

"I have to get out of the habit of saying,
Oh my god did I hurt you?
Right after I slam them."
                       Pishashee


"Freedom of expression is a measurement of fear for those
Who are trying to enforce a one-world view on others.
And taylor this right to their own interests as a party moment.
Which is nothing else really just a mouthwash of their criminal activities.
Thinking only of themselves and their stripped state of petty power.
Cradling an illusion that it's somehow an act of valor or love on their part. How pathetic!"

                                      Sansaint-Fondant


To them:
                  ” They were crooks the unnoble part of a spit
           Even less. Nothing
           Cheating people out of their trust
           But this is just a small fraction of a gift they deserve"

                                   -
To their acquaintances:   
    
                   “And they feared feared of themselves being exposed to the light   
          Because cowardice is the mother of tyranny   
          Their mother   
          And they sucked on those tits and they carried them around like horses  
          And people laughed how desperate they were   
          Trying to be wolves in their drunken stupor   
          Showing off genitals to an ant colony”
 
                             …

“I owe you this one” said Liberty
As he casually slapped a rhythm to her a*s, he called freedom
Others crept together in their wake
Crawling, snorting, f*****g as they shat
Unbowssened
So they decided to robe themselves in cowardice
Which they always did, using it as Nile
Over a fat moon moutain
To exuse a thunder that was never a spark of anything
But a pathethic grind to a climb of anal retentiveness
A tiny squeeze to lengthen their petty lives
Screwing over people for fun? Ha
 
I don’t care how your childhood left you
Or how your torrid life carved your bum
You’re crooks
And that’s all there is to it
A small time queasy rand
And a spermiant über c**t
For low calls only
 
So lam little lamb until you can
A*s still acquainted to the Blue
You may look away, meeking your day john
Teaching fake in your rubber boots
But don’t fake skin roo like you’re innocent
Repent
But what can we expect from these coward mini serpents
As to carve their dick on a fence
And pretend that they're men
Only gliding their a*s into bumble oblivion


The Music:

Author's Note

In 2016 I was on another poetry site where I was conned by several of its paying members even to the point of they coming to where I live and harass me and interfere in my personal life.
But I’m doing the best I can to survive.