Poetry is a place you can go
where every word is like useless snow
Still it's fun to play in it, isn't it?
Once, Christians in Love...were eaten by lions...I'm not sure where I was going with that thought so let's just leave it, okay...
Do you wanna play?
This is a sonnet which means it's not a playground
Okay, it is. I lied.
If I were a chimney sweep, I would go around
saying "Fuck you, Buddy!" a lot.
I just know it.
How about you?
We're almost there.
Fourteen lines! Touchdown! See ya.
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