04-13-2016, 05:11 PM
The night was dark, the moon was full,
the black cat stalked its prey,
the minions of the evening screeched
their mourning for the day.
A pinch of salt could not contain
the demon in its soul;
the ladder formed a portal which
the cat had made its goal.
It walked beneath these mystic steps,
the dark night’s calls grew faint --
it touched the side, and down did fall
a can of purple paint.
The cat screamed loud, its fur a mess,
and out of houses came
a hundred people, laying on
the painter all the blame.
The moral: when you're haunted
and all fun is dead and gone,
just paint your pussy purple
and you’ll never be alone.
the black cat stalked its prey,
the minions of the evening screeched
their mourning for the day.
A pinch of salt could not contain
the demon in its soul;
the ladder formed a portal which
the cat had made its goal.
It walked beneath these mystic steps,
the dark night’s calls grew faint --
it touched the side, and down did fall
a can of purple paint.
The cat screamed loud, its fur a mess,
and out of houses came
a hundred people, laying on
the painter all the blame.
The moral: when you're haunted
and all fun is dead and gone,
just paint your pussy purple
and you’ll never be alone.
It could be worse