If I never say what my motives are,
then nobody can judge me.
This is the worst poem you've read;
there. I judged myself.

Time flies like a bird into a window.
A cold, shut window.
It's very abrupt.
Also the bird is blind.

Life passes like the sakura tree,
with its majestic pedals chipping away,
and the next thing you know, it's been cut.
Sold for wood and nothing more.

This is the worst poem you've read.
There, I judged it for you.
You can't say it's better,
because in my head
it's the worst poem you've ever read.