When a Poet Becomes Unwell.


As a poet, I have been unwell recently.
I had to go to the Poetry Hospital.
I became so poorly

That they had to put me on to a rhyme-support machine.
Beep!

Creep!

Weep!

Keep!

Sleep!

Peep!

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s