I never had any type of artistic talent. I can't play one note of music, when I draw my stick figures are all deformed. No you do not want to hear me sing. I can't paint because I do not see colors the right way. Photographers see the world is all types of colors "look how the sun refelcted off the rock using my ZX440T9UXR-7 lens" I would just fire off enough photos that the law of averages say I would have to get a good one eventually. Then we have word smiths, their thousand words bringing a picture alive with memories and emotions. Well I can almost wirte! smile. So I wrote a romance poem.
Ode to Smut
He thought of smut
Each time he peered upon her butt
She was not a mutt
And she was old enough for you know what
Through the chase she wanted to cut
But she did not want to appear the slut
They really wanted to rut
But they were eating at Pizza Hut
She learned about his nut
And did not want a baby in her gut
Then the door was shut
They would position like King Tut
He was a romantic lut
Thus they married, and began a life of forever together smut
The Original 
