(This is a fictional poem)
Last year I thought about buying a dog.
But I changed my mind and I got a frog.
When it comes to my love life, I'm in a slump.
The girls see me and my frog and I get dumped.
I have warts on my face, my hands and even on my pecker.
When I answer the door, I scare the hell out of the bill collectors.
They all run away because my big warts makes them very ill.
I may be a social outcast but at least I'm getting out of paying my bills.
Comments about this poem (Frog by Randy Johnson )
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