Give up and go home. And you can keep your bone. And your buckets full of shite. And your artificial light. Your freemen and your slaves. You dirty rotten knaves. Your system is corrupt. You do not fool this mutt.
Reason for writing:
I just finished playing a game of frustration with my neighbours. That is a really enjoyable game that they introduced me to. They won the game of frustration because they are really good players with lots of inexperience. I mean, experience. You win when you lose with frustration, so I was frustrated when I lost, hence the poem, and they do cheat. I've been in their home and they can be a little weird. Although they have a nice attractive house with many sunlit rooms, they like to play frustration in the cellar where nobody can see properly, where they have strange artificial lights and the windows are barred and blocked up. On one of their walls they have a picture of a man with many heads and the body of a woman. ugh !!! But there is no need to be frightened of the neighbours. no need at all. There seems to be some confusion at the moment as to who actually owns the neighbours house, and that explains a lot. Relax.
Birth sign: Scorpio
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