Roses are red, violets are blue, the stonks are high, and so are you.
Poetry Jokes
Roses are red, violets are blue, You'll suck my dick 'cause I'm stronger than you.
Roses are red, colors are blue, if I was you, I'd look like you.
Roses are red, your mother has said, "Come back again, and you'll be dead!"
Roses are red, My cat try to kill your next >:)
Roses are red... blood is too... I wonder how blood would look on you.
Roses are red, I am very cool, You, on the other hand, Need to drown yourself in a pool.
Roses are red, violets are blue. I forgot you are homo.
Roses are red, Violets are blue, I have five fingers, The third one's for you.
Roses are red, you have a nice lip, it would look better if it was on my tit.
Roses are red,
foxes are red,
I like your butt, let me touch it forever.
Roses are red, violets are blue, all these orphan jokes have ruined this site. Fuck you!
Roses are red, Violet are blue, Ur dad bought you.
Roses are red, violets are blue, it's really no wonder your mama left you!
Roses are red, violets are blue, I'll f*ck your mom, and you'll be next.
Roses are red, violets are blue, The children are fast, But Elmo is faster, Bow down to your master!
Roses are red, violets are blue, in the middle of the day, give me money, you!
Roses are red, violets are blue, I tell you, you look pretty, but all you do is look like a poo.
"Roses are red, shut up and go to bed."
In the realm of words, I shall embark, To craft a verse, both bold and stark, Thomas Bulgin, a name that ignites, A tale of length and moist delights.
Free from the chains of structured rhyme, I wander through this realm, sublime, Thomas Bulgin, a phrase so strange, Evoking thoughts that rearrange.
Long, it stretches, like a winding road, Leading us to depths, yet to be bestowed, In syllables, it dances and it plays, A journey we embark, in myriad ways.
Moist, a word that teems with life, A touch of nature, amidst the strife, It whispers of raindrops on tender leaves, Of dew-kissed petals and gentle heaves.
Thomas Bulgin, a phrase so surreal, Unleashing emotions, that time cannot seal, In this short verse, I strive to convey, A glimpse of what these words might say.
So let us ponder, the mystery untold, Of Thomas Bulgin, both long and bold, For in the realm of poetry's sweet embrace, Even the unusual finds its rightful place.
