How sad
  to be a bl b
  whose shape is simply undefined.
  If you said “It’s shaped like nothing!”
  Do you think a bl b would mind?
  Or would it truthfully be happy to be so unique?
  (I wonder if it would be confident if it could speak.)
  Maybe it would celebrate its shape with joy and pride;
  Or would it find a corner dark enough for it to hide?
  I’d like to think of it as both outspoken and quite loud.
  I imagine if it were alive it would walk tall and proud.
  And if a triangle (which has its own specific name)
  Poked fun and tried to make it feel embarrassment and shame
  The blob would puff its chest out and announce its bold decree
  For let’s face it, if ever typpex has been disallowed.
  I’M the one who never fails to
  stand out from the
  cr wd!”

This is a fun shape poem. Try the idea out yourself, and imagine an object as if it had thoughts, feelings, and personality and make your final poem in that shape. Don't worry about rhyming. The challenge is in achieving the shape itself.

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