The Art Of Fuck...

If only I could fuck like you,

Your hair all fucked, your body too,

The bed messed up, the sheets so wet,

All cause he drove, a black Corvette,

Attracted to the green he had,

You’re fucked up mind so fucking sad,

So you jumped in as quick as fuck,

Now you’re naked, and shit out of luck,

Your make-ups running, the tears don’t help,

While he’s fucked off, you’re by yourself,

Another guy, how many’s that?

A hundred? Two? All seen your flat,

They came and went, you fucked them all,

Your phones worn out, waiting for the call,

It’s fucked how fucked you fucking are,

Look like some trash, once were a star,

But you won’t stop, you can’t, too late,

Try telling your two legs to wait,

So I’m afraid I’ll never learn,

The way you fuck, each guy in turn,

It’s just a shame you had no price,

All that money, wouldn’t it been nice?

But instead, free fucks for all,

And now you’re naked, waiting for the call.

By Ilija Sekulovski