This third person narrative thing. I might as well give it a go. Here we go, then...

Fuck that shit.
You don’t realise it,
But you’re illiterate.
Think you’re being astute.
You’re being ass toot.

Wait, that wasn’t third person, was it? Let me try again...

I think and then write,
I write that I want you to bite,
I wonder if you might...
This is shite.

Yeah, that wasn’t third person either. Is a third person poem even possible? I’m not trying again, yeesh, that’s too hard. No, don’t give it up, not yet.

Charlie was a fellow,
He farted,
Now all people smellow
Is really not that mellow.

Was that third person? Who cares if it was, I’m running with it.

Kittylove
Andrew =^.^=