I'm like the dirty uncle, who’s jokes go too far,

But you should know, this is just poetry,

There’s room for honesty, in the real world,

There are rules, you can’t just say these things,

God forbid, my coworkers ever find this,

These collections are like my dirty secret,

On the surface, I've done nothing wrong,

I'm clean, but for some reason,

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It still feels like a sin,

Like I fucked my daughter,

And I can’t let anyone know,

What would the community think,

We can never let our secret show,

Just when we’re alone,

In your bedroom,

Me bending you over,

Railing your plump pussy lips,

Yelling, baby, baby, I’m cumming,

All over your face, back, and thighs,

See, they’re just words,

But the things they’re claiming,

Shed an awkward light,

Should I separate the art from the artist,

Or am I dirt, deserve to be handcuffed,

Sent to prison, for the rest of my life,

Whatever, I couldn’t care less,

I’ll settle, for being the dirty uncle,

Art freed me, from my shackles,

It let the turtle, come out from its shell,

If it offends you so much, I wouldn’t care,

If you rot in hell, would I say it to your face,

That’s what I’m saying, I’m still a normal,

Functioning, human being, the world is a big place,

And you know what, I fell.