I suggest you capitalise the rhyming words - like this:

The war begins with the SAGES
They want the world to end, stealing peasants souls and making WAGES
They never have any CARE
About the peasants, war or even their family: all they do is stay in their LAIR
They have the key but they do not use IT
It could save the SHIT
They got bored and killed everyone in their PATH
They had no sympathy for all those who got in their way suffored their WRATH
They couldnt see they began the WAR
And made it come to an end; they just took their LORE
And have never been seen AGAIN
Because they are all INSANE and snort COCAINE and COMPLAIN about headaches in the BRAIN caused by a ruptured internal cerebral VEIN

Slaggamuffin.

-10-

Billy Bunturd.

-10-

And here's to you, Mrs Robinson.
Jesus loves you more than you could know.
Whoa-oh-oh!!1

-10-

You're a useless pile of stinking old-lady shit.

-10-

This is almost as good as the poetry of Crystal Lane Shit!!!!111

-10-

If you remove the pointless gaps and the arbitrary line breaks, you end up with the following sentence: "I wish I was part of the in crowd." And that's not a poem; it's just a moronic sentiment. Well done! -10-

"Watch your mouth, you slag," I said, and caught her with a right-hook. She fell to the ground in an instant. I kicked her in the kidneys.

-10-

TITLE SUGGESTIONS

1. SupremeDreamer is Astonishingly Dim-Witted
2. SupremeDreamer is Amazingly Thick
3. SupremeDreamer is a Mega-Dunce

Blessed with 10, you shit stain!!!!!!!11

You always remind me of William Burroughs when you produce these repetitive dribbles of addled sputum. Well done! -10-

I would change the "Till" to "Until".

But that's because I'm a colossal arse.

-10-

Just when you think that the dross posted on this site couldn't get any worse! Along comes Billy Biff-Chin (whoever he may be - what a stupid name!) and posts this utter garbage.

I suggest you add the following lines to the end of the first verse:

There's not much I can add
Except that my brother's name is Brad
We like to call him Brad the Cad
As he's been known to suck my chad
I always run to tell my dad
He says "Well, you're trouble, lad"
So I run off to my small pad
It's radical (or, as I say, "rad")
I've redecorated - well, just a tad
With a portrait of the Impaler, Vlad
I've only got one blue knee pad
I took it to the old launch pad
And ran into Juanita from Mossad
She suggested I use a mouse pad
For my other knee as they do in Riyadh
I confiscated her sketch pad
And placed a large newspaper ad
To find a woman, scantily clad,
To run off with to the capital of Chad

I'm shaking my head in disbelief! This is appalling! "Never will you look like a creep"! You must be joking. This is terrible! -0-