I scratch my head with a wonderful linger
as this syllable count defies my finger.
Then eureka bound, my mind cries ... Oh wonder !
Eleven ? That's right ! No more stupid blunder
I strut for a moment but then stare aghast
a feminine rhyme? Now my brain is surpassed.
Isn't that sexist my verse now one gender ?
I shall sip my scotch on a mind numbed bender.
Poems named Mary or poems named Daisy
I think I'll give up for I'm far too lazy.
Tell me what's next, verses written in numbers
and cybermen rhyme as Shakespeare slumbers.
I will wander along with thoughts of summer
my rhyming sucks and this poems a bummer.






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