The Unnamed Poem of Stuff and Words

This is a poem that I wrote a long time ago, and when I found it again, I had to laugh.

Stay away from lightened drinking
Because drinking leads to depression
Offer getting a little whisky for someone
Who threw the pin instead of the grenade
Then get authorization to commit murder.
Call teenagers named mischief and trouble
Who will gladly and hastily torment themselves.

Politics suck like robbery and war
It leads to senseless arguing and drinking smirnoff
And picking a fight with a person with
A s**t-load of friends and grenades.
Blasphemy will stop the losers because it’s
A language that isn’t crack
Which is all they understand.

Begin getting special judgement
So that you can use the force
And page a brilliant friend.
Anyone cracking your knuckles
Is a challenged bag of certain sense
Waging war against friendly fire and
Whoever ate the food should burn in hell.

Author's Note

I know this poem doesn't make sense, but one of the things my poetry teacher taught me back in the day was: "Stop making sense."