A poem by Kewlew

A POEM BY KEWLEW: FRENCH FRIES ARE TATERS GREEN BEANS ARE NOT ICE COLD IS FROZEN BURNING IS HOT I ONCE HAD A BOOGER AS GREEN AS A THISTLE EVERY OTHER TIME I BREATHED IT WOULD WHISTLE BUT THAT'S KIND OF GROSS ENOUGH ABOUT THAT ENOUGH ABOUT THE PIGEON POOP ON THE BENCH WHERE I SAT ENOUGH OF MY BROTHER WHO SMOKED ALL MY WEED ENOUGH OF STEPPING BAREFOOT WHERE MY DOG HAD JUST PEED BUT WHEN THE SMOKE CLEARS I FLIP ON THE FLIP WHERE I'M THE KEWLEW ALL HANDSOME AND HIP I CAME TO THIS PLANET IN AN ALIEN POD LANDED IN THE COUNTRY OF EVERYONE'S A MOD. THE END.