(2014)
It’s been a week Since I left my house The snows blocked me in And I can’t get out It’s really a bother
This poems the worst Nothing like the first My ideas are scattered about And the pages run out I’ve got better things to do
Brooke got her name Because she likes to babble Teller got his name Because he likes To tattle Shaky got his name
I sat there on my couch all night And waited for one to come out These things are hard to catch you… If you move they scatter about Finally it poked out it’s nose
I had a starring contest With the wall I sat there all day But to my dismay I did not win at all
He gathered up used paper A broken mug and coffee pot A cracked plate, a crooked rake And a tomato that begun to rot He gathered these things thinking
Melanie and her melodia Traveled across the land That’s an organ on wheels In case you didn’t understand She played her music from her hear…
If I was a ghost for a day There’s so much I would do Like fill the sinks with orange ju… And take everyone’s left shoe Id paint pink polka dots
His pencil would not write No matter how much he would scold… “It’s not about the pencil boy” “It’s about the one who holds it”
I followed a map of treasure once, In hopes of finding gold, But instead of finding a fortune b… I undug a chest real old. I guess you could say I lucked ou…
My girl and me Could never be For were kept apart By the sea I built a boat
No I won’t allow you To write about me It’s a waste of time A waste of a tree I don’t care if I’m imagined
Every one shall fear me For I’m the almighty bush If I see you waiting for the road… You might just get a push If you get to close to me
My mind is rather scary It’s why I keep it in my head If it ever where to escape Oh the things it’d do I dread
The things I must do Oh the things I must do I must polish the dishes And wash my shoes The things I must do
