¡Hola, mis amigos! (It’s just funny how I’m speaking to myself:) )
This was written on that “happy” day of the last week; now it’s too late to publish it, but still…
Pressed for time,
Short of rhyme,
She’d never make it right,
No matter how she tried.
She’s too slow, too lazy,
Silly, weak and old,
They just call her crazy,
And her story’s told.
Awkward, foolish, ugly…
The vice list has no end,
No one wants her body,
No one can understand…
How long will she pretend?!
Hey, I don’t dissemble!
I just tell the truth.
Who can help me gamble
My soul away and through?
To hell with this routine,
On Friday, the thirteenth!
