I don't want a fuckin poem, I want an IPOD!

That bitch Gayle,

I want to scratch her eye out with my nail,

Flaunting her new Ipod

That Katherine bought

She leaves it around,

Within reach, but not quite

She's listenin' to the sounds

Doing some stupid little bounce

'I 'll write you a poem' says she

and I throw her a look that can best be described as loathsome

Gosh I hate her

especially when she waves it nearer and nearer

Go die and wither

You super show off-er