Flicker, the pages of books
With hands that do blow jobs too-
Harder; faster-
Let the masters run wilder
That’s what they are meant for!

Flicker; or rather lick,
The dick they flick,
With a tongue that’s not for taste
But rather a tool-
To not let it waste!

Hands- I remember they wrote
Not with pens or pencils,
but with what they told!

With a body that’s tired,
With a flower that’s plucked,
For masters who rule me.
Flicker, the pages of books,
Well only if they hadn’t ruined me!

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