Braden's Poetry

Deep in the sunken deranged inner sanctum
There's a little green man who masterbated for thirty years
Each time you sit and watch him cum
You get twisted telepathical visions and dirty fears

It seems that he dreams, the blood gleams
Candle light Beams
He cuts her to pieces. He beats off to her feces
He is the same species

I've pulled the blinds back - I know
But Donna became just a place to blow
The green man who never got to fuck her for real
Knows better than any man - how cutting her clit off would feel

It appeared to other queers with pointed ears
Suntanned fears
The blood was on Many Hands, all who the green ham off man
Let understand, they acted on his command

Donna ended up a bloody mess of cum
Her twisted guts were gleaming off the sun
The little green man was finally hard again
With Donna's plasma on his handy hand

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