Pretty kitties and fat ol’ bats,
There’s nothing cool about your tatts!
You think that at society you can illustrate your sneer,
But your sleeve looks unbecoming, like a dirty smear
Of undignified screeching and hideous ‘art’
And the truth is, you’re about as attractive as a fart.
You’re not avant-garde, you just follow the pack,
You display all who you are, and everything you lack.
But one day when you’re old and ‘wise’,
You’ll look at your marks and you’ll despise
The thoughts you illustrated eons before
Because they’ll mean nothing to you any more.
Pretty kitties and fat old bats,
You’re cool as you are, without any tatts.
You don’t need to listen to the ‘progressive’ lies
That you can do all without any binding ties
To the consequences for all that you action,
Reaping eternal regret from ephemeral satisfaction.