Poem Number One Comments

I've come here to explore, and maybe bore, knock on my door, same as before, go to the store just once more
I look such a sight, it's dark at night, do be polite, that squeeze is so tight, should we fight or flight? Tell me tonight, go fly a kite.
I look for a cure. it's got to be pure, yes I'm very sure, don't act demure, you're talking manure, I don't feel secure
You think you're so hard, a bit of a card, but now that you're barred, everything that you've marred, will never be starred, you're a tub of lard
...
Read full text