Wretched Rhymes


and more balloons and streamersIt’s hot and it’s humid, I’m having it not.
I’m not gonna go out, you by-golly forgot.
You’re mean if you make me and meanwhile you ought
call the EMS medics, when I melt on the spot.

Don’t glorify games on the grass, it’s just dirt
with a bat and a ball, you’re just begging to be hurt,
and that sweltering summertime sun will exert
that sickening sensation of sweat on my shirt.

With that dreadful disturbing dog I should play,
that pooch from the pound, that repulsive stray.
He slobbers his smelly saliva my way,
and his soaking wet skin always smells of decay.

Damien’s Dad has a deck and a pool
while we bake in our backyard, believe me it’s cruel.
It’s my fate, I’ll forgive you, my family, if you’ll
keep me comfortable in air conditioning cool.

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