Twas Brillig in the borogrove, And shitty at the stick. The munchkins, they sat diplophobe, And wallowed hoth and wick. But wallow here and hither stare, A raucous bunch they were. Night and day they held dismay, A-following the blur. Somewhere in this hallowed land The wind is blowing cold. The streets are paved somewhere, And somewhere mice are bold. But here lay Casey, all broken-hearted, Tried to shit, but only farted.
Reason for writing:
I took elements of two of my favorite poems and combined them with some vulgarity to spice it up. Overall, I feel that it captures my life philosophy.
Birth sign: Not entered
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