The intoxication flowing from amber-colored bottles has nothing on you.
You're nothing but a
Rubber Stamp Rebel Boy.
But, it drives me wild.
Leather jackets, denim-clad thighs and a few bristly words
shouldn't knock me for a loop.
It does. It does. It does.
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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Let me tell you about my motorcycle...
Joe

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your such a hot chick cherry.. you suit the 50s really well . smile ..peter

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Oh my. lol This is a nice little poem that you have here.
I like it because it's a classic case of the Bad boy and how women seem to drop before him like flies and he's really disgusting with his behavior. You really captured it all pretty good in just a few lines and that's what I like best about this poem.


