Write a poem about the name of the last poster

Lets do this..!

Poxnora

Oh Pox,
ur like a fox in the mind,
ur kind and a thing,
u should ring
with ur bike bell in a cell.​

 

KelRama has been
On my mind incessantly
For a thousand years


It's a haiku! Don't make fun of my creativity

 

5-7-5 beautiful

PurpleTop can be quite comical
but as a poor man he has to be economical
He makes by on a bag of ramen noodles
I wish i could afford to send him poodles
But these poodles would never fill him up because he's astronomical

tried my best

 

There was a guy named KingJad
Who had a naughtiness fad
His soul was all black,
everyone repelled back
by his antics, though only a tad.

 

Your name is Boozha.
What a loozha.

 

THAT didn't count.

 

i think it did

See you are boozha
according to him you are quite the loozha
infact your poem was terrible
your rhymes aren't bearable
infact they make me snoozah

 

._.

 

Boozha, that's not a poem
It's an expression
Those aren't words spoken
Just signs of your depression

 

Emries you have never
been so very clever
as to put those words together
but my poem is better

 

Oh how I wish I was PurpleTop
like he is I would be a great warrior
with spells I could make enemies pop
and decorate anew my interior.

 

Ammon, a clops of repute
has helpfulness hard to refute
And only sometimes
It crosses my minds
why is his picture a brute?

 

Once was a hopper from Nantucket
Its name it had carved in a bucket
Carved Boozha the loozha
His lady he woozha
And something something something ****et

 

My sweet sweet dagdapede
He's got everything a man needs
For his lips as soft as a rose's touch
He knows it and uses them as such
But now you're so far away
And I just can't bring myself to stay
Germany vs brazil is on, beetch
.

 

There was a fatty
was very fat and burly
I think he was burn

 

roses are red
violets are blue
he pumps out those records in a whim
it's ma bb jimjim

 

Firk u boozha he r my bb

 

Haikus are damn hard
I hate doing them alot
Burnie is a *****

 

Loy and I are sitting in a tree
I make love to his face with my knee
he cried
then died

it's a short story/tragedy okay

 

Shakespeare ain't got Bane Shift on our love, fgt.