Let's settle this: Better Product

Black is to black, red is to red.
You are a confused transsexual, who still wets the bed.
Obsessed with cuckolding, your marital future bleak.
He lies about benching 225, because he's retarded and weak.
You copy and paste poems, calling them your own.
You long for Canes snorkel meat, and worship his bone.
Multiple message board personalities, a keyboard commando you are.
You'd be sucking Paul's rod, too, but he lives too far.
You think you know football, but you're still on mommas tit.
A two gapping 5 technique, you're dumber than shit.
Art, B&B, or whomever the fuck you are.
Stop sucking cock, and lick the bloody jar.
You've been clowned and degraded, it's nothing new.
Eat my ass, kiss my hairy bean bag, and slurp up Fred's AID's infested goo.

 

ouch....

 

Thank you for liking my poem...

 

Let me say this on record:

A poem war would be utterly epic, and would easily go down as one of the more glorious times TBR has ever been a part of.