Some bad poetry to soil your weekend

Good things come to those who wait.
Or is it strike while the iron is hot?
I wait too long or I jump too fast,
Either way, there's no middle ground
And my legs have fucking had it.

Don't you hate it when
Your nose gets shoved in shit
And then you realize
It's your own hand pushing
On the back of your head?

I built myself a wall,
But as luck would have it,
It was edible
And delicious
And fattening
And hard to digest,
So now I'm shitting bricks.

Whiplash karma
Like a boomerang with teeth
Fangs
Sunk in deep so you can't
Shake 'em off
Or fend 'em off
So you might as well face the music
'Cause if you turn your back
Your ass is mine.

What came up when I pulled the tent stakes,
And what the fuck stayed buried?
Is that why I can't get a word in edgewise
When I ring up Virgin Mary?