Words are meant to make sense
But first the sense must be tense
If there's a hint of pretense
The sense becomes dense
And the words, they just perch on the fence
There was a young boy from Brazil
He practiced his accent with skill
Try as he might
His rrs were not right
He failed to find favour with Jill
There was an old lady in politics
She knew more than most about bricks
But the rest were not quick
They kept building with schtick
Their structures fell down in two ticks
A person obsessed
Is a person possessed
Of a habit hard to surrender
But the habit itself
Might be good to access
To harness the skill to remember
Friday, 15 April 2011
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
There once was a town ruled by mor-mac who wagered the farm just to fight back,
Their ploy on thanks giving was to crush three tax payers livings.
Now as a result the twins were tossed out and will live to regret that fateful Thanksgiving
Post a Comment