To all my haters, feel my ember,
not the one that hurts; remember,
love is all I had when tender
age, I was dismembered, plundered.
Hate me all you want--a cunt!
You call me, grunt you think I do, but
saunter to you; do you truly
fool me? Or you? Don't be foolish.
My success is due to you, bish.
Cruel Bathala casted us, bish.
Prunes for dinner, you and me, bish.
We live one to one, enjoy, bish.
Enter, haters, more and more.
Like western theatres, you all form
my glory, sorry, golly, mollies;
Thank you, ladies, gents, good evening~
BINABASA MO ANG
Mahal-lika!
PoetryIs love just a a collection of feelings for one? Is it just a sweet section of chocolate for one? Hearken! My heart beats faster, the box shakes stronger -- Mahal-lika! Let us tell their stories of love divine, their love full of sin!
