Pimp
So desperate she wants to belong
Being way too friendly on the phone
When people ask what’s become of she
She simply tells them I’m p.i.m.p
She says she gets money because she a Mac
Mean while her breath still smells like similac
Slowly her life falls off track,
When she meets her match and gets knocked back
p.i.m.p she calls her self
With no money, friends and poor health
But I don’ t see a p.i.m.p
All I see is a…
w.i.m.p
The true philosopher and the true poet are one, and a beauty, which is truth, and a truth, which is beauty, is the aim of both.
Ralph Waldo Emerson, American Poet (1803-1882)
| Title | Comments | Submitted |
|---|---|---|
| Title | Comments | Submitted |
| Me | 5 | 06/07/2009 |
| What do you mean? | 1 | 06/07/2009 |
| Speak | 1 | 06/07/2009 |
| Pimp | 0 | 06/07/2009 |
| My back | 2 | 06/07/2009 |
| Don’t | 0 | 06/07/2009 |
| Grandma | 0 | 06/07/2009 |
| Maybe | 0 | 06/07/2009 |
| Get by | 0 | 06/07/2009 |
| Live | 0 | 05/28/2009 |
| Cry | 2 | 05/28/2009 |
| starved | 0 | 05/28/2009 |
| Aids angel | 0 | 05/28/2009 |
| Sticks and stones | 0 | 05/28/2009 |
| Think | 0 | 05/28/2009 |
| Shadow of me | 0 | 05/28/2009 |
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