Collaboratively Written By: Tracy Shults-Wright, Chelley Rice “Punk Poet”, Lee Todd Lacks, & Prunella Nadler
Butter your own damn buns No way in hell you’ll be MY muffin! Because I’ve done seen your hard black heart Was it pulled from Satan's chest to a darker place? My hopes remain small. Go on! Run! I won’t chase. Got no more ambition for your crap cause I can see it’s all a trap. Yes a trap has been set in place, to put your misery in its place... To grind to grist what joy is left in your bones. Scream out despair, soul prayer- nought known atones. Yes I'm hollow, with nothing to show... I have no identity I'm Jane Doe... A black hole’s how you left me- I absorb even light, but further you torment one who loved you in spite. Suffering is all I need to know... Let me stick my dagger in slow... Cutting into your flesh's facade... Expose to the world you're a fraud... Display all your trophies up-front and center. This girl cannot utter of the darkness in which you bent her. Bent at the waist with grim expectations subject to his cruel and bizarre machinations Pleading for him to cease the violence... Replace it with my infinite silence... I've never prayed for anything more... Please deliver me to death's door... I beg and I plead, “Oh dear God! Won’t you hear me?!?!” For in dying a wish fulfilled, you’ll no longer draw near me. My sisters and I heard the ominous sound through the vent on the floor, so we gathered around. When my Momma discovered we were listening in, she said, "Sounds like the neighbors are at it, again." Then... Such horrid wailing! A scream! And a thump. Each who had ears tuned, felt in their throats a growing lump. What was happening downstairs, we shuddered to guess when we heard Mrs. Lenehan's cries of distress "I told her to leave him," my dear Momma quipped, "the last time she told me she got her ass whipped." She won't listen She likes being whipped She's just pissed her panties ripped I couldn't let on that I was a bit curious or my mom and my sisters would have been furious Keep your secrets buried inside I'm the beholder of what you confide Nothing shall ever pass these lips Your secrets will stay in a tight grip because you know what would happen if we ever got caught daring to share our innermost thoughts Yes I have some idea or recollection It would bring our body dissection What we've done so far is innocent Let's knot be haste & go confess it I most certainly agree we ought to keep this under the cup I only hope that I can be like Mr. Lenehan when I grow up But he's such a musty old man who stinks I hate when he smiles & then he winks He probably wears his mother's underwear He thinks it gives him fashionable flare I better not catch him smiling at you He smiles at both of my sisters, too The Lenehan girls and my sisters are friends and they've seen him punish his daughters' rear ends I bet they like when their assess get the whip He practices often so his hand never slips Bawl like babies but have a twinkle in their eyes A scarlet stained ass is the winning prize When my sisters hear those naughty girls scream, the sound of their wailing makes them all cream Such naughty will be forced to repent Off to your room so the gurls went Momma strapped their bare bottoms with a thick, leather belt so my sisters would know how the Lenehans felt Someone's buns will probably be another person's fun. But don't jump the gun. Bring extra butter,hon..
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