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Rated: 18+ · Poetry · Cultural · #1504090
A poem for hard times and debtors everywhere
Mr. Bill Collector

Mr. Bill Collector please go away
and don't fucking call me one more day

Can't you see there's no money for you
I cannot pay, no matter what you do

So leave me along you heartless prick
you in your cubicle, you make me sick

Don't you know, I have degrees on the wall
I used to be something, before this fall

My wallet is empty and my credit is maxed
and how come collection jobs never get axed

There's more of you than ever before
and your one step down from being a whore

I am very aware of the money I owe
now, are you aware of where you can go

Please take my word for what it's worth
you've got to be the lowest form on earth

I have seen dog's in the park that eat their own shit
but one taste of you and I'd bet they'd spit

So hang up for now, you devil of money
and if the roles were reversed, now that would be funny



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