Diggie Dee of the West

Introducing the man in the vest
Diggie Dee of the West
The man of tomorrow with a "S"
Crested on his chest
Here to rid the pest
That infest, lest
They're on his list.
A man-made servant
Who's still a virgin
And locked in his room
Scripting sacred text running through his head like fumes
Shaking hands and beady eyes but he ain't on shrooms
Growing rapidly
His shit spit fast past the "T"
A fool for school
He drools words in an ill manner
Illiterate sick fixed grammar
That normal can't fathom
The one and only
Diggie Dee.

This poem is about: 
Me

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