WRITE WEEK #4

[theMuzzl3]

I'm just a fat ass fuzzy thing, walkin on thin ice.
More than twice, we've passed by this fuckin wrecked ship, but if we slip or misstep, we'll be a reflection of them.
Hmm, I don't trust this, when men still smell of it.
I swear that anchor frightens, cuz if it drops I'm done for.
Polar bear or not, this sight is tight; and its only right that despite their efforts, they perished.
Human ship wreck, aged by the wind and snow: now cherished.
I know I'm safe though, if I tippy-toe through this fantastic scene of the failure of human beings.
Hope someone's walkin the plank, cuz then I'll shank em with my teeth; and spit em out like it ain't no thing.

All hands on deck!
Fuckit, we're ship wrecked.
Lets go build some igloos and hope to God that some polar bears don't
smell the fish we caught through this fishing hole, foos!
Roll the dice, and pray for our souls.
Shit, this won't work; we're near the poll and I see some polar bears strolling towards us, like they're cops on patrol.