Replies

Thanks whoever resurrected this thread! I forgot about my old fake Maya poem from post 41:

Trayvon
by Maya Angeloo

I sing of thee Trayvon
Lamented burnt umber crayon
Shoud of stayed at home
and got your lay-on
But you heard the siren song of wet grass
and headed for Seven Elevon.

Zimmerman the triggerman
Big game hunter lay in wait
White hispanic in a panic
Rubberheaded, held your fate.

By punching him, you tried to reason
You cant of known - was black-boy season
Stand your ground, ground and pound,
Frito Bandito shot you down.

327 posted on 09/08/2016 4:26:14 PM PDT by dead

Lol.... poor Little Skittles.

328 posted on 09/08/2016 4:32:04 PM PDT by Godebert (CRUZ: Born in a foreign land to a foreign father.)

LOL. I’m glad I was able to see it.

329 posted on 09/08/2016 4:33:51 PM PDT by Jet Jaguar

331 posted on 09/08/2016 4:41:28 PM PDT by trisham (Zen is not easy. It takes effort to attain nothingness. And then what do you have? Bupkis.)

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