Roses are red, Violets are twisted, Come back to my place, You might get fisted.
Roses are red, I don't know why, Living is hard, I want to die.
Roses are red, I like weed,
If you say yes then I'll do a "good deed."
A man and a woman get married. The woman was a retired hooker. The man was a poet.
The man said as they did 69, "You taste better than my most delicious gourmet meal." The woman said, "Well, you aren’t too bad either, but the best 69 I’ve gotten and given was Harry. He did it for 24 hours nonstop." They got divorced that night.
"Roses are red. Violets are red. My parents' bed is red. Oh shit, I set the house on fire!"
Roses are red.
Violets are blue.
I have schizophrenia,
And so do I.
Roses are red, violets are blue, this poem doesn’t make sense, washing machine.
Roses are red, Justin Bieber is gay, But most importantly, You know de way.
