Once upon a space and time
A man who was not paid to rhyme
Devoted much attention to
Forcing his “humor” on you.
He spent a day amidst his folks
Without thinking of rhyming jokes.
The last two days he’d been lazy
So to slack off now would make him crazy.
Thus he started writing, it’s said
When a title popped into his head.
What he’d written did not fit
But he did not not give a… spit.
Anyway, I’m writing still
Although perhaps I battle uphill.
Yes, the tense is present now
And I wipe sweat from my brow.
(Even though my brow is sweatless
I actually wiped it. That’s how much I get this).
If you’ve seen this, you have read it.
This is why most poets edit.
The Daily Travesty 