HeatherShouse.life
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My husband is Trevor.
He loves to endeavor.
He ventures to foreign places.
I asked him "my dear,
why don't you stay here?"
He said that he needed new faces.
While he was gone,
the days trickled on;
and somewhere, he lost his head.
When he met a young lady
and thought that just maybe
he'd invite her into his bed.
His laundry was soiled,
So terribly oiled,
When Trevor, at last, came home.
With his clothes in my arm,
I began to disarm
the scent that was not my own.
While washing his shirts,
I found a few skirts
and thought that they were a surprise.
But I was corrected
as you surely expected,
when I saw they were not my size.
I finished the wash
with a splish and a splosh,
and instead of my usual weeping-
I folded and groomed,
and went toward our room.
I there found my husband, sleeping.
"WAKE UP!" I said,
with my eyes glowing red,
completely devoid of ration.
And just as I said,
my love lost his head,
with a chop of burgundy passion.
Rest in peace trevor
whose head I did sever,
I'll love you forever and more.
Enjoy the long sleep,
with the hearts that you reap,
In your resting place under the floor.
Just another snow day.
Jan 23, 2008
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