Well, thanks.
When I get fightin' mad enough
and steamed so's I could spit,
nothin sez it like a rime...
jes fer th' heck of it.
An when the steamin' spittle stops,
along with fumin' foam,
least wise what's left to show fer
it's
a frappy, scrappy pome.
Do you write poetry? You seem to have a talent for it :)