Ode to a Ninja
Oh, to be a ninja!
To have awesome kungfu skills!
You get to wear pajamas
And have super ninja thrills.
I want to be a ninja!
You get a cool sword--
Okay, it's a katana--
And you're never bored.
Oh, to be a ninja!
I'll throw some shuriken (We ninjas have all the gadgets.)
Or smack you with a boken.
So I'm gonna be a ninja!
Ancient China better look out.
Everything's a lethal weapon...
Even a live trout.
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I'm bored.
Perhaps I should write a poem.
I've heard they have to rhyme.
If a poem doesn't rhyme,
Is it still a poem?
Is it a haiku if it
Has wrong syllables?
No?
Yes?
What is a poem, then?
Maybe I've been writing a poem
This whole time
Without even knowing it.
Wouldn't that be funny?
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Ode to a Pirate
What's it mean to be a pirate?
A rough and rusty buccaneer?
Well, that's a tale and a half
So listen up, my dears.
You'll be on the seas for months on end--
That means you'll bathe in water of salt.
Same to all your swabbies, you'll reek of fish!
(But that's not your fault.)
If you are a pirate,
You'll be perpetually drunk.
And you'll snack on stale food
That smells and tastes like skunk.
Pirates are a busy lot
They invade ships all day.
Not that they can complain about it--
The job has good pay.
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Angsty Gothic Poetry
My blood spills
Like juice
From a squished tomato.
Anger breathes.
I am.
Nobody understands me
My mom grounded me
Now I can't drive the SUV.
I am blood.
I am.
I will haunt you
A shadow.
Suicide.
Like a squished tomato
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The Vital Importance of Speed Typing.
The bigggest thign about dspeed typyiung
Is doig it quite fastts/.
Yous have to be wqswidft ;lieke a typing eagele
And your dendttuerance umust surely lasty.
When you are speed yy[titpying yherez no time to waste
If you make and error` or msitakwe
There's ltitlte mitime to dfix it
Which erralluy take s the cakeke.
Be careful when you tspeed type
And if you do it just ribhyt
You;[dd gain reapect and flotry
You'klk eb sguby abd bright,
There's ont do2wnsuide to skeed rtpying
Adndn tis rahter iriritatingity
If you ttypj e jsut wepir to yfastkyt,.,
Nodbodyt knp0wos whatr t YOUTR RORdsaysign.
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Angsty Gothic
Poetry, Part two.
My soul is broken.
I should have got a warranty.
Blood drips from my slashed wrists
It reminds me of the leaky faucet in my bathroom.
Drip, drip
Drip.
I draw a happy face
On the wall
Crimson.
Like a pomegrante.
Yum.
I'm hungry.
I would go fetch a snack
But I am bleeding
Weak and dying.
Sweet release.
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
Man, That's really getting annoying.
Drip, drip, drip.
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