So I was walking down the road, And I came along something odd. I'm sure ill it did bode, But I couldn't help it, by God! It was so, so weird looking! Flat on the bottom and rigid and grey. At first I thought it needed a f­ucking, But there was nowhere for my cock to stay. I tried, and I tried, But I just couldn't do it! It refused to be pried, And of anger I had a fit. But it suddenly dawned on me, And I nearly went into shock. I couldn't f­uck it, you see, Because it was a rock!

That was good. How about a poem where rocks are portrayed as less slutty?

I'm an artist Mr. Dragon. I don't apologise for the truth.