Adult poem about overtime

Oh Husband, Dear Husband, I tremble with fear.

Youve been on overtime almost a year,

And since you are gone, till way late at night

A good piece of ass seems way out of sight.

O Husband, Dear Husband, Please dont be a fool,

Working this overtime is wasting your tool.

For better it is, to be poor all your life,

Than to bring a soft peter home to your wife.

I used to be happy as your little queen,

But now every night youre no where to be seen

You come home from work just able to creep,

I feel like screwing, but you want to sleep.

Each evening, Dear Husband, you crawl into bed,

Your intentions are good but your peter is dead.

I play with your pecker all wrinkled and dry,

I get so damn mad, I could lay down and cry.

I have pleaded with you dear, with tears in my eyes,

Ive played with your balls, but your pecker wont rise,

So Ill find me a man who works eight hours a day,

And while youre on O.T., well proceed to make hay.

For in this whole world, there is only one sin,

For which there is no pardon, and never has been,

And that is a man whos so foolish and mean,

That he gives up his fucking to run a machine.

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