Letter from a Way-too obsessed fan
I'd like to say what you can do to me
But can't in polite company.
I think that I'm obsessed with you
You don't return my phone calls
So I sent dead rodents in the mail
I would have set them at your door
But this man shoots at me from the rail
I don't know why you're avoiding me
I think that we are meant to be
I should really make you see
That you only belong to me
I went to your front door today
But someone said you'd gone away
I really don't believe them, though
If you moved, I'd be the first to know
I'm done with stalking you alone
(You still don't answer your own phone!)
I've found a new boy I can adore
He's taken, but you're such a bore
Besides, he has more piercings and tattoos than you.
So there.
Don't come crawling back when you realize what you've given up.
Because I'm not answering my phone, either.
P.S. I hope you liked my poem. I'll be hiding out in the tree in your front yard if you want to talk. I brought my handcuffs.
Sincerely,
Princess Darkfire Batwing