Are you sure about this?
It’s not too late to turn around and STOP READING.
But you might want to, this poem could get confusing.
WARNING: read at your own risk.
I knew it! Of course you’re still reading.
From now on, rhyming couplets commence.
I apologize in advance for not making sense.
Pink elephants dancing the pink elephant dance.
Pink elephants printed on my underpants.
Wet nose kisses from Frankie the hound dog.
This line doesn’t need to rhyme, no reason really.
This is MY poem, I make the rules.
everything will be lowercase no punctuation
lemonade get your lemonade
The return of punctuation.
It could be I’m making a mockery of others’ work.
You might go so far as to call me a jerk.
I’m just serving words with a side of sass,
excuse me now while I pass this grass.
I’m glad I didn’t say “gas,” aren’t you?
That would make it one stinky poem.
Flatulence, be gone!
If you look deep between the lines,
you’ll realize something profound.
I’m having fun by screwing around.
I told you it’d be rough, but we’re almost through.
Congratulations, readers, I bid you adieu.