Very Bad Poetry

Welcome to the last refuge for the world's worst poetry.

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Poem 612

Very Bad Archive

W

Mister Underhill

Before I met you I would spend my evenings laying face down in bed.
Wishing I was dead, wishing I was dead.
Oh, wishing I was dead.
But you did something I can't explain, something deep in my brain.
Something that drove me insane, or is it sane?
Now I masturbate six times a day. (2 more than I used to)

Mister Underhill has published 2 more terrible poems since joining on 30/11/99. Read more of Mister's terrible poetry at the anthology. Here are three of Mister's latest works:

God I hate robert hawkins

Submitted Nov 19th 2008, 00:07

The elusive monarch butterfly long version

Submitted Nov 19th 2008, 00:03

Oh poop

Submitted Nov 5th 2008, 02:45