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A poem I have just email to Beth! Its kinda how I feel!
Take a look....
She is called Beth
Beth Beth Beth Beth,
I have said her name four times,
In one constant line,
Getting with her could cost me time,
In jail
She is my sisters friend,
The rules of the land I must bend,
I cannot pretend,
She has……huuuuuuugggeeeee breasts
Oh the fun could be had,
If I decide to be bad,
Its driving me mad,
Trying to not be a lad,
And trying to hop into bed with my fecking sisters maaaaaate,
Its proper rubbish I tell theeeeee!
But I think she is nice,
So with trouble I must dice,
Curry is made with spice,
Cats chase after mice,
As I must with beth,
She reminds me of death,
But in a good way
___________________
Can dance faster than YOU!
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