My love is like a tub of lard—
Cold, unmoving, white and hard—
And never buys a sodding card.
My love is like a box of chocs
That's been dropped and taken knocks
And been ground in by grubby socks.
My love is like a keg of beer—
Always drunk and always here
And tastes more like piss every year.
My love is like a rack of ribs—
When eating he needs twenty bibs—
And spends his days just telling fibs.
My love is like a can of coke
Producing wind beyond a joke,
But when's said and done he's still my bloke.
by Tracy Davidson
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