Don’t read this poem. I’m telling you don’t.
You promise no looking. You promise you won’t.
You’re reading it now. I can tell that you are.
If you’re reading this line then you’ve just gone too far.
You now have to pay for not listening to me.
I did try to warn you to just let it be.
But no! You knew better. You ploughed straight ahead.
Perusing a poem that shouldn’t be read.
You’re still here? Good grief. Can you not take a hint?
Do you screw everything that’s committed to print?
You’re not going to like it, no way and no how.
I’m saying once more, you must stop reading now!
OK, I’m not playing. Know well in advance.
I’m giving you notice – this is your last chance.
If you stop reading now there’s a chance you won’t suffer.
But take a step further and things will get tougher.
Right, that’s enough. I am wasting my breath.
I tried to be nice and I warned you to death.
I showed you the way out. I drew you a map.
So suffer the truth mate. This poem is crap!
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