Today there's a feeling that rhymes with bite,
starts with sh and the end of mite,
food to fast,
gullet burnt
God almignty will ye never learn?
On the knees, clasp the bowl, heres some more!
Ewgh! this is foul.
Try to breathe, clear the eyes,
Scrunch my toes, breathe some more,
Wow, ***** puts a shine on the floor!
Spuds and stuff that should be chewed,
my tumbly pretty shot and burned.
The liquid pumping,
taste of acid,
freedom to eat, how I yearn.
"grab yersel'' my pals would say,
"yer covered in green, and looking grey!"
"feeling sorry, so pathetic,
writing Shight that is Nar-******-cissistic!"
yup thats me!
and it's true , yes,
I spell shight badly,
and I'm a selfish twatte,
whilst vomiting madly.
whoops, did anyone spot my duodenum?
I am dreadfully, perhaps mortifyingly , sorry for any mild profanity, and, whilst feeling for, nay, concurring with those whose forbearance is as the most estimable and valued blessing ,that anyone such as myself would be most humbled to recieve, and , may I say, would be willing to reciprocate should dire need ever raise its sullen visage, that the shameful and scurrilous dissertion so poorly arrayed before all your so flattering and, dare I say, insightful, although (Tu raison!) critical gaze, was written in a positve, unseemly as it may be, and, respectfully begging the collective pardon of your kind selves, rush! Theretofore, I claim your editorial mercy for the seeds of this grass of Parnassus, though it may seem that my golden fields of favoured poetry have been laid low by the glowering face and grimacing winds of my own ineptitude . I am, sirs and, should those shimmering daughters of Helen themselves bless me, with the merest glance of their grace, ladies, most earnestly at your service, Vicomte De Vomite X