Poem by Rose Collector

Burnt Roses

There was a house of pleasure
That often was a home
To many of us gentlemen
That sometimes like to roam

Outside of Belzie City
It’s flowers were on display
Fragrant toys for the naughty boys
Who came to play and pay

No amount of Belikin
Could douse the blazing fire
Lingerie and condoms
Loves saddest funeral pyre

But spring always follows summer
So let us not be sad
Someone will build another
So boys can still be bad

Rose Collector

Click to Go back to List of Poems

Leave a Reply

Comments are closed on this post.