Being By Jodekss Gloatkenf

Yay, again she’s lying putting

To bed, pregnant! It’s cutting

It’s cursed coming, crawling crying

Bright bloods spilling being trying

Turning touchy too toxic tired laxing

Molding moves n’ making musing

Moving darting paths pattering

Parting n’ pinching its mother murdering

Pick in in picking a *pikin ordering

Deary dearths doing death darling calling

Comely coming could the called in killer come in crawling

Or would in wanting be waiting its mother moaning

Tossing n’ turning n’ tumbling midwives thrusting trusting

Telling its mother its murdering be pushing, trotting

Throwing tip-top in in-to-to her tip toe, two toes to tipping

Oops! Much more well water watering red milk no sipping

No sitting no standing n’ well worrying n’ walking no zipping

O there is zipping, its father on hearing its mother’s murdering

It’s pin-fully thoroughfaring using piercing by, processing urine Sieging siding abiding asiding relations relatedly relating in grin Saddling sadly sorrowful smirking praying, cursing

Crossing n’ calling, kneeling pouncing, consulting n’ forcing

Through the true windows of heaven as its making the murdering

She’s still pushing, its father wanting fathering

Thinking leaving returning isn’t life living its glaring

Its coming, its halfing n’ halting its a tsunami staggering

Pulling apart its mother’s parts apiece, tears tearing foaming

Pitying is pitying pitching preaching n’ teaching forming

Veiling in virile flocking the fronts of heaven heaving sighs sighing In high sizes saying see seeing seas of sweats sitting

Even this oddly even evening’s munching much, she’s teething,

Rowing wearing cold calling to being its own thing, heaven be willing! It’s out the next is ceremony, naming

Mother n’ father rounding round round abouts running maiming

Really rejoicing. It’s walking, crawling cool forth four-legging

So seeing seasoning of seasons of sowing its walking two-legging

In that lighting, maturing its born its own it thing

Its moiling n’ toiling is reading really remarkable in beholding

Its royal being is reeling really astounding in bolding

Its lasting long-lasted lots of lives, longevity in the ending

Its lasting so sour short n’ curling embarrassing like the first handing O’er circling as it be then so it be being

It, it’s Ben, being biggy-bard, brilliant in brilliance but no more bean It is his interring. You being, bending beside you who would see see seeing ’em wailing Well, waiting well looking loose see a seeing she letting it hailing; Yay, again she’s lying putting

To bed, pregnant! It’s cutting

It’s cursed coming, crawling crying

Bright bloods spilling being trying

Turning touchy too toxic tired laxing

Molding moves n’ making musing

Moving darting paths pattering

Parting n’ pinching it’s mother murdering

Pick in in picking a *pikin ordering

Deary dearths doing death darling calling

Comely coming could the called in killer come in crawling

Or would in wanting be waiting it’s mother moaning

Tossing n’ turning n’ tumbling midwives thrusting trusting

Telling its mother its murdering be pushing, trotting

Throwing tip-top in in-to-to her tip toe, two toes to tipping

Oops! Much more well water watering red milk no sipping

No sitting no standing n’ well worrying n’ walking no zipping

O there is zipping, its father on hearing its mother’s murdering

It’s pin-fully thoroughfaring using piercing by, processing urine Sieging siding abiding asiding relations relatedly relating in grin Saddling sadly sorrowful smirking praying, cursing

Crossing n’ calling, kneeling pouncing, consulting n’ forcing

Through the true windows of heaven as its making the murdering

She’s still pushing, its father wanting fathering

Thinking leaving returning isn’t life living its glaring

Its coming, its halfing n’ halting its a tsunami staggering

Pulling apart its mother’s parts apiece, tears tearing foaming

Pitying is pitying pitching preaching n’ teaching forming

Veiling in virile flocking the fronts of heaven heaving sighs sighing In high sizes saying see seeing seas of sweats sitting

Even this oddly even evening’s munching much, she’s teething,

Rowing wearing cold calling to being its own thing, heaven be willing! It’s out the next is ceremony, naming

Mother n’ father rounding round round abouts running maiming…

(c) Jodekss Gloatkenf 2016

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