(This is a fictional poem)

When I was thirteen, I got a pair of glasses.
People called me four eyes and I kicked their asses.
They thought because I wore glasses, I was a wimp.
When I got done with them, they walked with a limp.
My teacher called me four eyes too and I was appalled.
He was lying on the floor after I used my slingshot to shoot him in the balls.
The principal gave me a swirly in a toilet because my teacher was his son.
Several hours later I scalped him while he was sleeping and he thought I was an indian.
People regretted what they did before.
After I kicked their asses, they didn't make fun of me anymore.

Randy Johnson

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/four-eyes/