B***hA Poem by Frieda PB***h, you call me a bi_atch like it's really my name hard to tell if you love me or abhor me the truth is in your denial playing in this sand box you think is love gritty sex and all that jazz luscious lips on the hips, toned muscles does not a lover make chug another beer, watch some porn then expect me to perform get out of my way so I can see my way through to what it's really all about maybe 2.5 kids, a dog and that picket fence aren't looking half bad in the rear view mirror Careful I had a bowl of b***h for breakfast and that's Ms B***h to you.
© 2013 Frieda PAuthor's Note
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13 Reviews Added on January 7, 2013 Last Updated on January 9, 2013 AuthorFrieda PNJAboutIf you want to know me, read my poetry, it's all in there. I am a mother of three sons (my finest moments) a sister, a survivor and a little bit crazy. I lost my beloved sister to suicide, so you'll.. more..Writing
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