I remember the coffee-stain like it were yesterday
Precious in many a way but only ever really delaying the inevitable
Do I need to
S-P-E-L-L
T-H-I-S
O-N-E
O-U-T
When a coffee-stain becomes a leftover cigarette, becomes a God awful flame
And only then will we ever find ourselves in one helluva situation
Coloured the blackest of black by pain
Don’t read me incorrect, she really did ask for all of this to rain down upon her
That memorable slur numbing her once soliloquyed voice
Seems we all have a choice to make in life
Choose happiness or this, downright abuse!?
Unashamedly, she fashioned her very own noose
Loose at first, perhaps
But, suddenly, it getting to become oh so strained
You wait for it… you watch the treacherous pain I speak of
Mark my words, it will be here before too long
And then, most probably, we unforgettably find her savagely caressed, wearing only that lonesome pink thong
The way it has always been… oh so fucking wrong!
Those ogre men far too mean and devious to ever settle her one particular score
They opened the dungeon door and she took a gnawed hand, inviting herself on in
Win-win, my ass!!
I recall a far superior time when little Lolita held so much poise and SO much class
Now fallen… agonisingly stolen
Swollen and beaten, bleeding to within an inch of her treasured life
I’ll go fetch my knife!!

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