My father couldn’t accomplish anything simple, He rarely smiled and I never saw any dimple, He’d call me a sook, And I'd get this look, It read like a book, I wished I could turn his rage into a pimple.
My father couldn’t accomplish anything simple,
He rarely smiled and I never saw any dimple,
He’d call me a sook,
And I'd get this look,
It read like a book,
I wished I could turn his rage into a pimple.
 rage stories
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francis_bede
francis_bede Author of Bad Clergy and other poetics.
Autoplay OFF   •   19 days ago
A nonconformerick

My father couldn’t accomplish anything simple, He rarely smiled and I never saw any dimple, He’d call me a sook, And I'd get this look, It read like a book, I wished I could turn his rage into a pimple.

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