There once was a cat from Purru,
Whose limareics ended on line two!
This is a story of a mare from Peartucket, her son, his misadventures, and a bucket of bits. All told using the very lowest form of poetry.
And this is why Lithl should never be permitted to write poetry.
I had to write this just to get it out of my head.
>>14965461496546 But the Doctor hates pears.
I read the whole thing. Sanity, GONE.
Join the club!
We have t-shirts.
>>15018901501890 Pfft. I've been the President of the 'Never Sane" club for 21 years, even though that's three years more than I been alive.
I ain't never been right in the head.
Not in the day nor when I sleep in my bed.
I'd stay up all night and day,
And giggle and laugh and say:
"I've not slept in years, I should be dead!"
I've rhymed more than one line or two,
I've gotten all the way to Peru.
I once strangled a fish,
Because it ate up my wish,
That I could be more like you.
If sanity was a birthright,
Then God past me by that night.
Because my brain- if the Doctor's not wrong,
Is most certainly gone,
And now my eyes don't shine bright.
I once had a mother named Sue.
She left Nevada when I was two.
We were brought up to here,
Where the Indians drink beer,
And gamble every winter the flu.
There once was a foal from Maredun