Mustard
A poem by me
Mustard.
I have an opinion about you,
But I'm scared of being judged.
I don't enjoy you, mustard,
And I think you smell like
Vagina.
I also think you smell like
Vinegar.
These aren't great smells,
But together I know how
They would smell.
They'd smell like
Mustard.
I don't like you,
Mustard,
And you have "tard" in
Your name.
No comments:
Post a Comment