Pure, Unadulterated Poetry, I tell you!

Sometimes, one is bored. And when one is bored, odd things happen. I, having lived with myself, for 17 long years, am very much accustomed to my general level of oddity (or as I call it, uniqueness). But sometimes, very, very rarely, in fact, I do things that weird myself out. This is one of those noble things.
Read on, and prepare to be dazzled by my literary ability!

Lo, it dawns on me,
how pretty I scream!
As thy fur grazes muh skin,
And thy teeth, "gently" bite moi neck.

Ah, I suddenly conclude,
how natural my tears
as they flow outta my contorted face,
And my countenance but freezes

Oh, that which I once loved so,
And, surely, continue to,
Has bitten me in casual play.

Well, my resolve has not wavered.
I will defend ye till the end.
For I know you meant it not,
To but slightly threaten moi lyf.

At the crack of dawn, I decide,
I will lead thee to moi amma,
And explain to her crystal-clear,
How you still the gr8est wolf ever.

She may regret getting me one,
She did say a hamster would be better,
But I argued! And, oh, I won!
And thence, *blushes, u wer my bae 5ever

But, oh, what this be?!
For my legs, hang as they did normally,
But betwixt them now,
For sure, a tail I see!

I see a snake in the distance
And filled with a canine urge, I charge,
And the poor bastard is in pieces before
I realize, humans don't have teeth that large.

Horrified,
You by my side,
I walk to a lake,
I look in,
my fears are confirmed.
My eyes, once blue like the colour,
Are ruby-red slits
My gay smile, once wide and nice,
Is but a lopsided snarl.
By me mom's baggiest slacks
A crazy-ass wolf I be!

I look to Yer face.
I took you under my wing.
I thought,
You were a wolf
But my words were ordered wrong.
For, by my troth,
I now see,
You a were wolf!

I snarl at you happily.
I like the sound it makes.
You snarl back, like you always have,
And reveal this was your plan all along.

We paw-bump and touch noses.
You'll be king and I'll be king-er.
For till this earth explode, and even after,
We shall be heroes. Frackin forever.

Yes. No structure, no rhyme scheme. And no damns given by me. There is a reason I never wanted to be an English major.
This is high quality art. I stand by it.
Also, special props if you got the David Bowie reference.