Will You Not Be Silent?

Once again, I made my trip to the public library. Rodoslav, my Russian acquaintance, had paid me a severely low fee to assist him with his bio-weapons research, so I periodically tried to help him locate information.
My task for the day was to learn more about the nature of the HIV virus, and whether or not we could find a way to make it airborne. I started to make some very good progress. I was what I believed to be upon the brink of a major scientific discovery when I was interrupted by a severely annoying individual.
There she was, the one who refers to herself as Libby Deloris Agnes III. Just as I was about to find a way to engineer a entirely new virus, she asked me if I would like to hear her next poem.
I did not respond, but she kept on talking to me as if I was someone who may come to regard her one day as someone that I might tolerate on a regular basis.
She said, “Most People find my writing far too… dark. They just can’t, um, figure it out. I suppose it is because they don’t read and write as much as I do.”
I told her, “In the unlikely event that I want your opinion, I shall ask for it.”
Despite telling her to fuck off so to speak, she went about trying to read to me her poem.

The Gloom of the foggy highway
Libby Agnes Deloris III

The gloomy highway was shrouded in fog.
How miserable it was!
A solitary man walked in the mist.
Will he ever reach his destination?
Probably not!
A lone crow sat on an old tree.
Caw! Caw!
How drowsily it cawed!
The Gloom
The Fog
The Smog
The Ridiculous Blog!
So Depressing
So very Depressing
The man continues to walk,
The crow continued to squawk.