The Joker Poem by Silent Soliloquy

He's his own biggest fan
Loves the sound of his own voice
Never listening, only talking;
you don't really have a choice

See him elevate himself
On something that's not there
The only thing comes out his mouth
Is a blast of pure hot air

Doesn't really seem to care
What those around him think
But if he really had a clue,
Would his ego ever sink

Oblivious to naught but his
Self-deprecating 'pride'
While all the while, his pitiful
Style's in dire need of a guide

To those forced his comp'ny
A laughingstock, at best;
Pitied by those closest to him
A run-you-ragged pest.

Does this guy seem familiar?
You know someone this could be?
It's not that hard to figure out
The Joker, friend, is ME