Disjointed circle poem

Wrote this with a few friends, passing it around and adding lines so that we could only see the previous two lines. The result: a strange, disjointed poem.

When the prince leaves his throne,
he leaves me cold and alone.
And when I look at his eyes,
my soul turned into stone.
Sharon Stone is crossing her legs
This isn’t Home Alone
McKauley Kulkin isn’t calling on the phone
You don’t have to be scared to the bone
Time will tell when you’ve grown
If you indeed will still moan
When in Rome
all roads lead to home
Because the emperor knows you all too well
Every inch of your skin,m every human smell
You scratch and sniff but it won’t tell
’cause the secret will die with me in hell.