You don't need a masters degree
You don't need a masters degree
To work out the Matt in Me
Beer, football and pu$$y
Strong with 2 sugars, in my Tea
You won't be given a fine
If you cross my moral line
I'll call you a stupid twat
Carry on and I'll give u slap
I like to paint abstract modern art
I finish things that I always start
A lot of what I say rarely makes sense
But at least I never sit on the fence
I like animals rather than folk
I'm always smiling at a private joke
I am sensitive and hurt easily
Although I cover it up, being silly
I say inappropriate things in a fight
But as a general rule. I'm always polite
With my thank-yous and beg your pardon
A cheeky lad, from West London
I'm a simple guy really
Who likes his own company
I find solace in the bookmakers
With my friends, societies wasters
My head spins with crazy poetry
A much loved insanity
You don't need a masters degree
To find a friend in Matty B.
Vote for this poem
Please Comment On This Poem
|
|
|
|
|
|
| theunfairnessofangels | 
|
|
|
