Weak literacy written on cheap paper.
Blotted in Diluted ink that you bought from the family tree.
Smothered with ego, concentrated on "me".
A typo is all your ever gonna be.  
You must think your a real Edgar Allan poe.
Mimicking an illusion to live the excrusion.  
Your words became a pollution soaked in toxicity.
A mutation made ***** who changed its name to felicity.
So what ?
I ****** up this poems recipe..