There once was a poet, demonic
Whose short, four-line poems were chronic.
‘Twas evening again
And the poet did pen,
To be contrary, this lim’rick ironic.
Instead of holidays with mangers
Tonight we ignore all the dangers
Of costumed little shits
Led by cats with big tits
Who, through threats, steal candy from strangers.
My wife stole 5,280 feet
On our honeymoon cruise down the Nile.
But that’s really ok,
‘Cause you know what they say:
Give her an inch and she’ll take a mile.
A long time ago in Pacote
A princess would swim in the moat.
A frog said “I’m a knight,”
So she kissed him. That night
She wound up with a frog in her throat.
There once was a poet from WA
Who flew this morning to CA.
He rode in car
And it’s been good so far.
Also, he’s tired. HaHA!
There once was a guy named Satpal
From Mumbai who was seven feet tall.
He graduated today
With his Harvard MBA
But his dream was to play basketball.
I was not prepared
For how badly I’d be scared
When mom called “a^2 + 2ab
“+b^2, come here to me.”
FYI, my name’s (a+b)^2