Aye they arsed me to spake,
So eyes spoke as never b'fore.
Eese n'ver Cummins back,
Two the vilest of villages.
Not wen ye call'd is
Mutter a twitch, tis Saleem
Tat b'longs on thee ocean flore.
Eee aint nose lernd gentilman,
Tat can spake ann rite eyes as
Goood as meee, Sory abelt meee's
Speling ab out meee. I cany not
remembar if tis to ee's or free,
Aboot tem twitches. eyes
Dont b' Leighve in dem u seee,
Butt ify u dus better to ang em.
Frum ta nerest treee,
Tan burn'em ass a twitch.

Poetry by Alan J Ripley The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 54 times
Written on 2022-11-25 at 00:59

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arquious The PoetBay support member heart!
Luvin’em dialecticals!