Hello Punks! I thought we would be good friends!
But instead you hate my poems and Dont appreciate each other's work
I dont write for myself so you know!
I write for every one of you
TIRED OF USING INK ON PAPER, I CUT MYSELF AND USED MY BLOOD TO WRITE TO YOU
SERVED WHAT I HAD AS FOOD BUT YOU ATE IT AND BIT MY FINGER; AS WELL AS MY HAND
You Poets Are making me a bitter Man
and I'll be demned if I stay silent
I love you guys with Passion and I would like to See this Site be called the greatest
but that hate which you carry will bring us to the lowest

HELLO PUNKS! I am writing this message cause I am hated for no specific reason! AND I STAND FOR ANYBODY WHO FEELS THE SAME BUT CAN'T EXPRESS IT!
there are so many people with talent here! So let us Embrace It!

WOULD YOU PREFER BEING CALLED A HELLO POET OR A HELLO PUNK?!
  
it's just one world; one earth!
if you have plenty of something please do share! be the first to love and to care
see you later now take care!

i'm searching.
searching for you in a crowd of people.
searching for your soul out of all of them.
searching for that light that drew me to you when we first met.
where did you go?
where is the soul that once captured mine?
where is that light?
i'm searching.
but i'm beginning to lose hope.

230

We—Bee and I—live by the quaffing—
’Tisn’t all Hock—with us—
Life has its Ale—
But it’s many a lay of the Dim Burgundy—
We chant—for cheer—when the Wines—fail—

Do we “get drunk”?
Ask the jolly Clovers!
Do we “beat” our “Wife”?
I—never wed—
Bee—pledges his—in minute flagons—
Dainty—as the trees—on our deft Head—

While runs the Rhine—
He and I—revel—
First—at the vat—and latest at the Vine—
Noon—our last Cup—
“Found dead”—”of Nectar”—
By a humming Coroner—
In a By-Thyme!