Destroying the classics for the dream of cream
By William Sexspeare, Humour Admirer
This is just to say
I have eaten
that were in
your lady box
you were probably
for the shower.
they were delicious
and so warm.
Roses are red
Those balls are blue
Stuffing is sweet
And so is goo.
How do I love cream? Let me count the ways.
I love it to the depth and breadth and height
My pole can reach, when coming out of sight
For the ends of Being and ideal Bones.
I love wads to the level of every day’s
Most quiet need, by pink and pornography websites.
I love thee freely, as men strive for Spooge;
I love thee purely, as they turn from Dry to (Cream)pie.
I love with a passion put to use
In my old socks, and with my manhood’s fluids.
I love skeet with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost load, I love thee with the blast,
Smiles, tears, of all to come! and, if she chooses,
I shall but love thee better after each little death.