Ode To The Hidden Can

Hidden CanI’m not alone, You know you’ve done it before,
If you were a lyin’ dipper, you’ve hidden the canned whore.
Today was spring cleaning, my son’s by my side,
Empty cans found all over, there was nowhere to hide.
Just on my bookcase, what did I see,
Not just one there, but a total of three.
The Bible hid one, that was covered in dust,
Guess the angels were keeping me, from my addictive lust.
Another was found by a book from Tom Clancey,
Dang that nic bitch sure tickled my fancy.
The last one stung most, and this one, please hear:
It was behind a trophy for “Man of the Year”…
So to the hidden cans, you’re now out in the open,
I bet you thought by now, my ass would be broken!
But I’ve now held strong for a hundred PLUS days,
Done it by faith, and the support of some “gheys”
I know I not done, more cans will I find,
But know this, you whore, I’ve left you behind.
I’ll never go back, so dip just kiss my ass.
Like the brotha did say, I’m “free at last, FREE AT LAST!”

NOTE: This is part of the Ode To The Quitter series written by KillTheCan.org forum member Phillip.
For more details see Ode To The Quitter.

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One Comment

  1. Of all the things that pissed my wife off about my dipping, I think the worst was finding cans while she was deep cleaning the house.




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