Don’t hold back on the profanity...
Aromaticity of the inner mind is not a proclivity.
It’s hard, really fucking hard to affront me,
Be intrepid and brace my internal high-octane audio CD.
I like things morbid, so don’t be shy,
Eat at my core like a Mediterranean fruit fly.
It’s not a must; BUT I like poems that rhyme,
Prime my crime like command processing overhead time.
Please please pleazzzzze me, try to confuzzzzzzzze me!
How can you possibly factor my agent frommmmm me?
Can a description die without making erroneous assumptions ?
Don’t EVEN think my points came for free!
Don’t let meaning simply pop up like white toast.
Make it foggy like sky from a meteorological observation post.
Lastly, what's the reason to live? Would I lie?
Misgive, relive, forgive, and in that case, OUTLIVE,
Your enemies,
Of this poem.








