☆☆ this is kind of a poem that's always stuck with me. I don't know why, I don't remember where I heard it from, it has no like, giant important meaning but I'm just going to share it here. Jonny was a poet or at least he claimed to be and you saw his poems you would know what I mean his words never properly rhymed he had a sister named fran he would mention random things and he also always tried fitting as many words and letters into the very last line in each and every stanza as he possible can so Jonny got hate and when Jonny got hate he didn't know what to do and as his blood spilled on the floor Jonny didn't know what to do and as Jonny looked at himself, he didn't know what to do Jonny never knew what to do Jonny was a coward. --ps sorry is there are typos its really hard to see as i can only see one line when im writing and the scrolling is really fast