Paucity (Poem)

The following is a poem I wrote upon asking my followers to give me a word to make a rhyme out of. The word was paucity…

I’m out on my last stint
Doing that shit
That plausibly
Such an atrocity

I never met a fool
Who can do what I do
With audacity
And an apostrophe

I lit a fire up under my ass
And it burns
But it feels so good
Viva la hood

I went down yonder
To fetch a pail of what not to do
And I came back with you

So now I’m stuck here in the crossroads
Sitting in my kitchen
Waiting to get my hit in

All your answers are filled with such paucity
Positively unpositive atrocity

You couldn’t find the answers
Just to save your life

So you’re a quarter past dead
And you’re about to be bird food

Bird food
Bird food
Bird food