To Hell Poem by Lamar Cole

To Hell



Ricky was having a bad night at the dance.
The pretty honies were avoiding him like the plague.
His clothes were dirty and his breath stank.
He smelled like a pig.
He became so desperate that he started dancing by himself.
His funk cleared the dance floor.
To hell with the honies who wouldn't dance with him.

Monday, July 27, 2020
Topic(s) of this poem: people
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