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I'll have to smack your b** She pulled me to her pillow, She whispered words of love, She said if I was really good, She'd see what could be done.
She always acted that way, Pretending not to care, Pretending she had better loves, But she never told me where.
I thanked her for her kindness, Turned over to the wall, I made a space between us, Which she filled to keep me warm.
Well, two can play at that game, Last night I fell asleep, I said 'I'd love to love you, But I'm far too tired my sweet'.
She pulled me to her pillow, She whispered 'Oh, come, come', She said 'if you do that again,
I'll have to smack your b**'.
© Joseph G Dawson Vote for this poem
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