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Only too often do I see bickering about
Trivalities, the voices of bumbling louts;
A gargantuan supply of idiocy abounds,
Round after round of pestering sounds;
Optimistically I aspire to explore and seek
Whatever it is that made us all so weak;
I came upon this one fellow, preaching like a demigod,
He invoked my rage, that ignorant clod;
After I've had my way with him,
All of his lights went dim;
He crumpled to the ground, that moronic lump,
So I took his emaciated body to the county dump;
A suitable place for him, I know,
Having dealt society such a terrible blow;
He most certainly was a blight,
Needless to say, I slept little that night;
I would be deceiving you
If I said that this menace never ran anew;
Relentlessly visiting me in my attempted slumber,
Endlessly knocking me with a block of lumber;
I begged, “Please don't interrupt my sleep,
You invoke thoughts so unfathomably deep.”;
I visited the tavern for assistance
And shelled out my meager subsistence;
Fooled by a controlled substance I was, expecting help,
Jack Daniels didn't care enough to yelp;
Debilitated by recurring guilt,
Many glasses of melancholy are spilled;
I feel it is time to join that departed man,
A shocking and ironic plan;
Consuming pills upon pills of Xanax,
Never so deeply had I begun to relax;
Here I am, no longer present;
Though my actions I do resent.

There once was a fair and modest priest,
though in reality, he was a foul beast.
He was a respected member of the clergy,
always punctual and never stingy.
Who would have suspected his evil deeds,
forcing prepubescent boys down to their knees?
This priest has a penis as thin as a wire,
and children slake his selfish desire.
Of course, said children never blow the whistle,
in fear of being pummeled into a pile of gristle.
It seems that this whistle will remain forever unblown,
and the dark nature of the priest will stay unknown.
One boy in particular, by the name of Roy,
was the priest's most revered organic toy.
Many sordid encounters were shared,
and not an ounce of laughter was spared.
You see, Roy was a masochist,
the perfect partner to the sadistic priest.
Where other boys would scream and weep,
Roy enjoyed it all, being fondled by this creep.
As the days went by, you see that nothing lasts forever,
and so, Roy and this priest spent less time together.'
The priest grew alarmed at the thought,
has the boy been charmed, leaving him to rot?
He said, "I must find out the ploy,
that separates me from my boy."
After days of searching and most careful scrutiny
the priest uncovered the cause of this mutiny.
A little boy by the name of Ross,
was responsible for the priest's loss.
The priest decided to set things right,
so he set out to Ross's house at night.
Armed with only his fists and malignant will,
so grotesquely would the priest kill.
As such, their encounter was so gory,
that I cannot describe it in this story.
But there was Ross, a broken and bleeding mess,
and the priest showed not a sliver of distress.
Now that the deed is done,
it's time for even more fun.
Before long, the priest succeeded and Ross was found,
he was pummeled, bludgeoned, and buried in the ground.
The priest had a sardonic smile on his face,
for he was the winner of this brutal race.
"Now that my conscience is clear,
it's time for me to find another boy to hold dear."