My dear illigitimate,

Your prose and rhyme is as a blight on the regularity of society. You and all of your foul species are tragic, nay pathetic maluses of organic matter. Your pithy cognitions are amateur and juvenile, you act unto yourself as one of the oppressed- but the fact remains that you are indeed terribly misguided. You speak as if you are knowlegable as to the depths of human suffering, but you are as a child- a simple imbecile. I hope the endless vacuum of oblivion engulfs you as you spiral towards idiocy.

A Real Bastard.

What the hell does that mean? i did not get one word you said...are you like...god or something...that was kinda scary actually

besides none of my poems actually have meaning to them...