A poem that rhymes (the worst type )

I wandered through the furry glen

Those sticky balls were everywhere 

I had an itch with out a scratch

A poem without a theme

A song without a tune 

A love with out a lust 

A flower without a stem

Purple mixed with yellow 

Green with black and blue

The valley deep 

The mountain high

The song sad

The singer mad 

The poet quite bad 

For three rhymes in a row

Just to make the lines flow

The end is nigh 

The theme never found 

The cuckoo nest’s buzz

Is waiting to shock

The phone is drunk

It’s time for a book 

(C) Francie Mcgivney 

  

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