Dark and dreary.
He belongs in a museum!
A bite? W’ere?
It might be in pieces.
On some random guy? In a comic that was drawn weeks ago?
She said she wanted space. He didn’t know she meant all of it.
D-n-i-m-r-e-v… hey, you lied!
Roses are red
Violets are purple
Your poem sucks
And now I can’t end this with a rhyme. Jerk.
Production issues.
I already did.
Dark and dreary.