PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

So, my English teacher called me a cynical bastard.
She doesn't recall the night I was at her house, completely plastered.
In the bedroom, it made no difference that I had no dad.
All she knew was that it was her time to hop on, and that she'd been bad.
Everyday, I sit in her class; I put up with her shit.
She's really pissed off because I made her swallow when she pleaded for spit.
Revenge will take its place once I spread the word around the class;
That I spread our teacher's legs and pounded her tiny ass.
And as it nears the end of the week,
I'll call that bitch back up and get her under the sheets.
Why must we lie and make up false pretexts?
When you're receiving a willing male, for a month of sex. <3