bloodA Poem by Rob FunkHis daughter cried, Her father had died, What a fine tool, Just look at the blood pool, Have you no soul, Well now I know, F**k I should have never struck that blow, Turn the switch off, How it tastes like copper, Where in the hell is that chopper. © 2013 Rob Funk |
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1 Review Added on July 15, 2013 Last Updated on July 15, 2013 |

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