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Image for the poem Squeeze my Lemons till the juice runs down my leg

Squeeze my Lemons till the juice runs down my leg

I'm heading home   I have a date    
Chills play my spine   I pass my gate    

Time to eat   hope I'm not late    
     
I rush myself   up spiral stairs    
I'm hurrying cause   I like mine rare    
     
It's dinner time   I'm feeling fine    
I lick my chops   and grab my wine    
     
I sing and dance across the room    
To one of Zeppelins slinky tunes    
     
(squeeze my lemons till the juice runs down my leg, squeeze it so hard till I fall right out of bed)    
     
Alas with ringing of the bell    
Wafts cross the room    OH delightful smell    
     
I sit to eat    Has it gone too far    
You know I like my meat Tartar    
     
I squeeze some lemon on his leg
And lick my lips as i am fed

I slurp His blood so delightfully red
My secrets out    I love the dead    
     
Daintily   I wipe my chin    
Daintily   And then I grin    
     
  
Written by shaunda
Published | Edited 26th Jan 2015
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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