The day I feared has come,
When you ask,
"Tell me about you and Ma."
If you were a son,
I would try,
"Don't be stupid"
Or
Senseless empty verse
With admirable phrases
And great vocabulary.
He wouldn't buy that
But that's the way
With fathers and sons.
Not with you,
my dear girl,
Image of our love
And my darker self.
You won't say it
But your look says,
"Seasons are just
Six-letter words.
As for four-letter ones,
Fu*k, su*k, li*k and lu*k
Are better than love.
Tell me what it was."
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