☆☆ this is kind of a poem that's always stuck with me. I don't know why, I don't remember where I heard it from, it has no like, giant important meaning but I'm just going to share it here.
Jonny was a poet
or at least he claimed to be
and you saw his poems
you would know what I mean
his words never properly rhymed
he had a sister named fran
he would mention random things
and he also always tried fitting as many words and letters into the very last line in each and every stanza as he possible can
so Jonny got hate
and when Jonny got hate he didn't know what to do
and as his blood spilled on the floor Jonny didn't know what to do
and as Jonny looked at himself, he didn't know what to do
Jonny never knew what to do
Jonny was a coward.
--ps sorry is there are typos its really hard to see as i can only see one line when im writing and the scrolling is really fast