Having a pet is so weird. Like neither of you speak each other’s language and yet you form some strong bond by rubbing against each other and sleeping together and you might accidentally kick them in the face or step on their tail once in a while but at the end of the day you two are best buddies from entirely different species.
Not Iambic….Do Not Accept…
These tags I’ll pop, and boast in rhyming verse
that what I wear puts swagger in my gait;
though twenty shillings have I in my purse,
my self-esteem and manhood both inflate
when lofty furs I purchase for a cent.
Thy grandpa’s clothes are worthy salvage, though
they smell a trifle musty. Still, I spent
much less to dress myself from head to toe.
To save or not to save? The question’s moot.
I’ll never give my coin to high-street crooks.
These dusty shelves will yield their hidden loot
to those, like me, more frugal in their looks.
Like ancient coins washed up on distant shores,
I’ll find my treasures in these thrifty stores.
- Macklemore, “Thrift Shoppe”
*Crying with laughter*
ITS IN IAMBIC PENTAMETER. SWEET JESUS THIS IS MY NEW FAVORITE THING.
THIS IS THE MOST BRILLIANT POSY I HAVE EVER SEEN.
Guys, that’s not only Iambic, that’s a fucking sonnet. *claps*
Grammatically correct for the period and a couple of references to Shakespeare’s actual works.
I’m sincerely impressed.
"Are we datin’? Are we fuckin’?
Are we best friends? Are we something, in between that?
I wish we never fucked and I mean that.
But not really, you say the nastiest shit in bed and it’s fuckin’ awesome.”
i need to be alone like the way you left me