Thursday, April 26, 2018

A Poem For a Contest (but it was rejected).


Writing a verse is such a curse,
I don’t think that anything could be worse,
I try to rhyme and take my time,
But all it ends up is slime. 

Don’t tell me to try and try again,
When rhyming has not been my friend,
I especially forget to spell two, too, or to,
This is making me feel blue.

So reading my work is up to you,
I don’t know how I’m going to get through,
This day or the next or the next again,
When trying to rhyme seems never to end.

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