My poetry was pretty profusful back then.

Are you ready for the depth of staggering genius displayed in the following poem?

Get ready to have your mind BLOWN.

I am lost like a boat at sea

the Carol now never used to be,

well, that’s not true really.

I always have talked and been a boss,

but never before did I feel so at loss

well, actually:

I’ve felt longing for a friend. But that feeling did end.

Well, what I mean is:

I need someone  can count’n

though Shadow’s* friendship is profusful like a fountain…

Well, he’s not always there.

I am lost like a boat at sea, 

the Carol now never used to be.

Well, that’s not true really.

-Me, age 11

* my childhood dog

That’s right, folk. PROFUSFUL.