Im a moulded mind,
shaped from junk mail and scam sites.
I’m a point that I can’t seem to find.
Caught between it and an apology,
caught between my natural state and drawn rights.
my poetry doesn’t fit in a ******* box.
Natural flows of emotion. Wankers posting
their unique feelings. Just like everyone else.

Guess what?
I do too. so ******* sue. Then buy yersel a ******* clue.