Better Dayz

Picture an old hoe shitting

And she’s worried I can feel it

The spirit I can kill it with myriad methodologies

In vain were my professors, I forgot everything they taught to me

I hated when teachers sounded like actors reading off a script

I’m trying to recall the first time I was in a classroom with a hard dick

But I can’t retrieve the memory, maybe I never encoded it – or it’s been erased by time

Early in

I get the feeling that Christ appeared at the wrong place, wrong time

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