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4 44%
4 44%
1 11%
Voters: 9.
Graves of our Fathers

we'd drink around fires that burned between pillars
of the ruins and dreams of the town's founders.
gaze out at the wastelands as smoke
hovered over the treeline.
if someone was looking for action
that place was a gold mine.
it was the graves of our fathers
that brought us together
where kids would grow up
and only-children found brothers
in the glow of fire pits
that lit up their bottles of liquor.

they'd talk about leaving
but they all end up settling
they'll long for the city
but die old in the country
they'll never know how perfect they have it
in that burial ground
where they learn their bad habits

Underage Girls

Some playas use ice to entice,
But I prefer to use Old Spice and Bacardi.
On those underage girls that rock my world,
I just want to give them a chance to party.

Cruisin' downtown checkin' out the prospects
Looking for the kinda girls who don't push charges
I got a smooth ride that's completely paid
Pick-up truck with a bed, (in case I ever get laid)
So hop in for a ride baby, don't be afraid
You must be so tired, from running all day
through my mind, (I got a million lines)
Designed to make the ladies melt like butter
And it also doesn't hurt when you pick chicks from the gutter
Who just like me don't discriminate.
White, black, young, old, why the hate?
Cause all I wanna do is fornicate,
Give the world some love in a time when there ain't
None, just pain to be had like an asshole cop
with his gun, and his badge in my face.

So if you're interested, don't be hesitant,
But I won't accept just any old applicant
First I'll have to see some photo I.D
And if you've got a license you're too old for me.
Unless you're a beginner cause then we got a winner
Let's get down and dirty after candlelit dinner
I'm not a creep, yeah I believe in romancin'
But I can't get a break cause of guys like Chris Hansen
Making true love seem like a crime, and handing out jailtime
Lock a playa up like a dog in a cage
I like all women, I just prefer underage.

Fine Art

I went to an art show with too many people
saw a mock Monet and a poor man's picasso
But I guess there's no one left who can measure
up to, the freak foot talls of the old basketball team,
only half hearted hopefuls who can't live
the dream, until they bite the bullet
then they're fully committed
to the canvas they claim is the only conduit
to a door that goes past space and time
to a little travelled place at the back
of the mind where you always have more
than enough time to unwind there's nothing
going slower than our own little lives
hell we don't even know that we're dying inside
piece by piece every day, until we're ashes
that fly through soft autumn winds down
Kensington drive, cause that's where true art
goes when it dies.
^That would have been funny. The piece you'd be remembered by.

Also, I think you should have used that Snowflakes' Tidings (?) piece. Your best IMO.