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Burns Night poem

 
 

By (user no longer on site) OP   
over a year ago

Those of you on this site with a Burns Night hangover, or those of you who like appreciate a bit of body hair, might like this poem:

Yestreen I wed a lady fair,

An ye wad believe me,

On her cunt there growes nae hair,

That’s the thing that grieves me.

It vexed me sair, it plagued me sair,

It put me in a passion,

To think that I haed wad a wife,

Whase cunt was oot o fashion

-Robert Burns (1759-96)

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