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weirdelf
weirdelf
Jun 11, 2007 ⭐ View statistics (Premium feature)

No Cuts

I won’t let the bastards cut me
Not to save my life
I could die on the streets
at the end of a muggers knife
But I won’t let the bastards cut me
If the cancer grows
from my head to my toes
I won’t let the bastards cut me
I could be torn apart
by a wild boar
or dissected by a jealous whore
but I won’t let the bastards cut me
Not to save
or stupidly waste
 my life

About This Poem

About the Author

Region, Country: Sydney, Australia, AUS

Favorite Poets: The Romantics, The Mersey Sound, The Beats and, of course, The Bard

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Comments

weirdelf

weirdelf

18 years 11 months ago

oops

Thanks Joe, am normally a pedant about punctuation myself. Attribute it to some rather fine scotch I was imbibing at the time. 8) cheers