Shakespeare's turning in his grave.

My Poem's So Savage It Probably Puts Fear

In Shakespeare

I'm a little past fifteen,

And life's being kinda mean.

It sucks to be me.

Happiness is what I'm looking for, but I can't find the key.

Thank God I'm still young and beautiful.

With boobs like mine, life can't be too dull.

Actually, my boobs are smaller than they appear.

But people hold them pretty dear.

I'm really actually a B.

Although Carl guessed a C.

Really, that's fine with me.

Don't you love my rhyme?

Man, if I could get a dime

Every time I commit a literary crime

I'd be...er...

Rich.

That's right, bitch.