Kids – Holy Terror’s and Pocketbook Pick Pockets (A fact of the matter poem)

By: Fock


From the very start, even before they arrive,

Kids are dicks and diminish your thrive.

They cost you a fortune and give you stress,

they poop on your couch and throw up on your dress.

They whine for pleasure and scream for no reason

they make stupid decisions and commit family treason.


Kids are the worst because they suck you dry,

not just of milk but also all your hard earned money. What the hell kids. What the hell.


They never say thank you and only complain,

They get what they want while they drive you insane.

Some of them seem to be okay at the start,

until their smiles turn to bites and their bites turn to farts.


But society says you must spread out your seed

and that’s where you can discover the power of weed.


That weed will do wonders and I don’t mean for the child,

It will calm your nerves enough to keep raising them with the hopes that one day they will make a bunch of money and end up taking care of you when you are incontinent. Although there is a good chance they will be selfish little pricks and put you in a nursing home to live out your days with horny old geezers.



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