Billy Biff-Chin5 Feb 2004

So you've got a publishing contract? I pray to Jesu that they give you a good editor to rewrite your ignorantly written tosh. You punctuate about as well as SupremeDreamer and Blindpoetry. Buy a grammar book and read it, you fucktard. I have tried my best to edit your "Emily Mae" mess into some sort of shape, but the work is far from done.



What else can a young mother say?
I wake up at night hearing you. And--
I love and miss you dear Emily Mae.

Minutes turn to hours and hours to days
As no one but you can take my hand.
What else can a young mother say?

When we put you to ground, the display
Alone sent me into this no man's land.
I love and miss you dear Emily Mae.

I buried my heart there to keep you at play,
In the field where the grey stones stand.
What else can a young mother say?

To those who we had who went away?
I want you to know I'm glad you weren't planned.
And I love and I miss you Emily Mae.

One day soon with you too I will stay
By your grave as a mother and friend.
What else can a young mother say?
But I love and miss you my Emily Mae.


That irons out a few wrinkles; it doesn't stop it from being the most sentimental, embarassingly heart-rending, bathetic pile of shit in the world ever. Thanks. -10-