It's not even...clever. The author must have thought this was soooooo good to post it lol.
Eat this poem. Eat it, let it swim around inside you. Let it touch you where it matters; let it stew in your juices and ferment for a bit. Don't let it back out until it's ready. And trust me, you'll know *cough*. Seriously though, minimalism is nice, but is also harder than it looks. I want to like this. I enjoy these little nuggets of wit, they're charming. Sadly you're either almost there, or miles away. That's the problem with these types of poems
^ im really glad to hear you think so, and it's flattering you're following me, but, I was here first.
I know, but you're such a bad critic. Did you really "lol" at your own joke? That's sad. And why would i follow a faceless entity? You're uninteresting, and not worth my time. And my time is "cheap". So ya know, if you ever wanna cuddle come find me. It's better in those situations to be unknown than known, am i right.
How dense are you? Laughing at my own joke? Not even. Laughing at the author? Totally.
As for you other bullshit, it's just that: bullshit. You don't know me and your attempt to pin me down only blows up in your face like you know what.
In the end someone always gets something blown in their face. It's what adults do. I see you're angry at me for no particular reason, so let's just stop while we're young and wear our big boy pants from now on. If you need a belt let me know.
Gets his own medicine, blames others of anger. Lo fucking l
ain't that grand......