I feel like such a fucking cripple

I want some ice cream, please, fudge ripple

I hit my ankle on the desk

Trying to do an arabesque

It's swelling like an inner tube

My God, I feel like such a boob!

Did I just refer to myself as a boob?

Okay, this rhyming poetry is shit for the birds.

I wasn't trying to do some fancy ballet move, either.

Just propping my feet up cause I am a lazy ass.

Too lazy, in fact, to cut the grass.

Whap!

Now it hurts, and it's purple.

Nothing in the English language rhymes with "purple."

What else could I put in this here poem?

I don't hate my boss or my job or my family...

Oh, wait.

DIE! DIE! DIE, EVIL AUNT!

Ick. Caps lock.

Die, evil aunt!

Much better.

My chest pain hasn't gone away,

but that's a rant for another day.

- dionada

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