Nothing Moves... Where would it eat lunch?

rikki rockkettt (left) & kimberly poo (right)

Why should I blame her that she filled my days
With misery, or that she would of late
Have taught to ignorent men most violent ways,
Or hurl the little streets upon the great,
Had they but courage equal to desire?
What could have made her peaceful with a mind
That nobleness made simple as a fire,
With beauty like a tightened bow, a kind
That is not natural in an age like this,
Being high and solitary and most stern?
Why, what could she have done, being what she is?
Was there another Troy for her to burn?


Send all official complaints regarding this filthy material to the beautiful and lovely
kimberly poo @ kimberly.poo.pie

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