She was a redhead full of fire,
A special kind of plum,
Full of sugar,
And drenched in rum.
Like most cherry sweet things,
she had a dark pit.
For those who didn't know how to eat,
For those who bit,
She served her cyanidal tits.
She was the perfect fruit,
To my cocktail of affections,
The right mix for all the wrong reasons,
For once the bartender served me right.
All the money in the world wouldn't have been enough to tip him right.
For more content look at,
https://steemit.com/poetry/@arkadian/hot-chocolate
https://steemit.com/poetwisdom/@arkadian/poetwisdom-1-mysteries-of-the-universe
https://steemit.com/poetry/@arkadian/nautical-romance
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