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This poet think's he's a god
He think's porn's the norm
until he's astray as a stray dog
going around biting people with rabies,
bleeding them.
Even death turns his head away before collecting the victims in another few hours.

The reader thinks everybody's worth pitying.
What wrath is this? If only the poet found a better scripture to recite instead of porn, with words like,

"Love does great things.
Lust does great wrongs."