atelier-rabbyt

Once I happened upon a callow young lass, Who apparently thought that it was cool to be crass. And she turned her tongue upon the profession of writing; Apparently she felt that it was in need of a smiting. Though her raving and ranting made very little sense, She seemed to be taking a rather harsh stance. Apparently her pain was too great to be understood, Far beyond the comprehension of this man from the hood. So I stood there in swagger, clad in my bling. While she behaved like 'Moon-Moon', in search of a thing. She spouted some nonsense, some far fetched line, About never idolizing the keen writer's mind... ...Aaaaaalrighty then, If t