I’ve read worse, but not from anyone over the age of 18 who wasn’t deliberately trying to write awful poetry.Such as this:
I’m just a little black dachshund,
Running in circles around the yard.
I am a very fast dachshund,
Keeping up with me is very hard.
Everyone knows that young dachshunds
Don’t come housebroken — O what a trip!
I’m circling around,
Nose to the ground,
Wondering where I will drip!
The author, a good friend of mine who understandably prefers to remain anonymous, comments that “I believe the technical term for poetry composed in honor of the new family pet is doggerel.” Which is a strong hint that the awfulness is deliberate.
Likewise his adaptation of a certain Primary song:
We’re so glad when Daddy comes home,
Glad as we can be!
Run in circles, bark for joy,
And dance upon his knee!
Do the humble doggie crouch,
Give his shoes a piss,
Jump into his face to give
A doggie kiss!
I am of the opinion that my friend is altogether too attached to his dachshunds. Though, in my more cynical moments, I am also of the opinion that this is still an improvement on the original.
His sister prefers to rewrite hymns. Such as:
And we hear the desert singing,
Carrion! Carrion! Carrion!
They are a strange family. Though you may think that’s a case of the Sith calling the Jedi black.