Roses are red
Violets are blue
This poem sucks ass
And so do you

With the might of god
And the wrath of my fist
I’m gonna punch your gob
Until it’s blue and you get the gist

Are you still sitting there silently
Wondering ‘bout what the fuck I’m saying to thee
Did I just use ‘thee’ in the 21st century
Yes Sir, I did, blueberries and trees

This poem ain’t ‘bout berries
And it sure ain’t ‘bout you
In fact, it doesn’t make any fucking sense
But my favorite color is blue