the_worst_poem_of_qwerty_the_pig qwerty the pig You don’t scare me… With your pouting lips With your outstretched arms With your stick. I have become immune I learned some time ago To look within me for truth. And now all I need from you Is the number Of the surgeon That you used To sew me up Last time. 040429 ... dvorak the goat Having me, who was not made to obtain... your pouting lip which loads the arm where your stick has been attached are expanded. I reached the point where I am immune I learned because of the truth before you, you see for a while among me, yourself. And everything which now I need from you is the number of surgeons who are used for you sewing me with respect to the end. 040429 ... qwerty the pig I am shamed by your droll mutation 040430 what's it to you? who go blather from