Poems Are Fack-Tarded.

Actually, as a matter of fact. I am not a poet. I promise you that. So then you ask, why are you here, Where rhyming and rhythming people are near? And then I will answer, to your nosing mouth. That poetry's art, that's what I'm about. I like craftily putting big words together, and making bad emotions seem better. Enjoyment is mine, when I see I have written, something where my ambition is hidden. Well crap, I really just wanted to say that. I'm gonna go buff my cat. And burn my hat. And hit my shiny cat into my flaming hat...with a bat. I bet that cat is fat. He did bad things with rats. I hid his ashes under the mat. Then I pulled down my pants and shat....on the mat...on my shiny cat in the flaming hat.