With scalding wit you can try and hit me.
Your power-shell words an arsenal fitting.
Incendiary jibes your loose tongue lit.
Bomb phrase factory brain
the pedistall you sit.
Tongue fallout plays in acid rain
you simply wont
admit.
My prose grows on you I´m bec rhyme magic.
Militant rhyming let´s you know it´s drastic.
(That´s poetic for holy sh!t.)
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