Stop

No really, stop reading. This isn't a poem, And I'd really rather you stopped reading now. Thankyou. Excuse me, I asked you nicely enough, I'd sooner not be abrupt, But I really want you to stop. Stop. Now. Look...why are you reading this? I've been polite, This poems private, I should have kept it out of site, But you've found it which is bad enough, But please accept the authors' rights, Just put it back, pick another one up, And read that one instead. Thankyou Now I'm getting annoyed Please don't scroll down, The rest is personal. Christ. Don't you listen? Have you gone deaf? Have your senses left? Are you incapable of decision? Put this poem down! Don't even read THIS line....now! Put it in a box, stamp it, send it out of town, But stop treating my wishes with derision. That's it. I'm continuing on another sheet, It's in my pocket, a safe place, And if we ever meet, Face to face, You can explain, Why you carried on reading this lot, Even though I asked you, To, STOP!