Back in the 90's, I had a hobby of following my friends around at clubs and making them write bad poetry for me. The word poetry was used very loosely. Well, completely incorrectly would be a better term since it was also used for articles, completely fabricated self-help columns and random complete and utter nonsense.
These are the results of those (often drunken) ramblings.






Sunday, February 27, 2011

Buttermilk


By Nancy

From a crazy person, we now fall on the safety of our good ol' standard, Nancy. Never one to disappoint, here's another bitter rant.

Do not set limitations on me

Do not set unrealistically

High goals on me

Both extremes I can exceed or

Never establish

We are told that life is what we

Make of it

But no one tells us about

The car accident

That could amputate our

Legs

That could really suck if

You’re a dancer

So much for limitations and

High goals

No one informs us of the

Chance

We could loose our lives or

A loved one

In a plane crash

Look, the next time someone

Incredibly talented with a

Good job dies suddenly

Don’t mourn them

Go apply for their job

And go on with your life.

Such empathy!


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