"The man was not unlike the ground he stood on
Sturdy with mysteries unknown beneath
A glance on the surface you'll see only brawn
Lucky you if you tempt his bared teeth
Hands with the same grip as his eyes
Muscles rippling down like waves
A boulder wouldn't compare in size
And a voice that makes men quake in their graves
Many a victim could be felled by that stare
If ever he looked anyone in the eye
Of fighting he doesn't seem to care
And of speaking he seems shy
Where would fear be if not placed on someone so suitable
Though his amount of ferocity and aggression is disputable"
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I Hate Poetry
PoetryI don't like poetry. I don't like reading it, it never makes any sense, and there's too many rules and not enough rules. But here's some poetry.
