Fishy, fishy, fishy T,
push-ups are no good for me.
So I must stop calling thee
fishy, fishy, fishy T.
...and now for the REAL poem!
Crazy people, she says!
I don't believe that.
I think that you,
oh Fishy T,
are the psycho.
You are merely a property,
not an object!
Yet, in your arrogance,
you prance around with the delusion
of your ability to control power.
Yes, perhaps your negativity
is beneficial. And maybe
you do keep us safe.
But don't taunt us so!
You're so inconvenient.
No shortcuts for neutrons;
nor expanded horizons
for poor, defenseless fuel.
No wonder you, oh Fishy T,
have no friends.
I just really wanted to point out those to factors that I really enjoyed how they were done.
