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

I once met a man Who walked on his hands He’d sit on his head When too tired to stand He’d extend his leg

Who cares when you dance It’s not to the beat Your claps aren’t timed And you stomp your feet Be the first to dance

Peter piper picked a pot of hasenpfeffer Drank it down, took another round It couldn’t get any better Peter went back to the market

If I could invent one thing It would be a bubble blower I’d make myself a bubble friend And really get to know her I’d make myself some bubble boxers

Tippy Tom liked to drink Tippy Tom would raise a stink Tippy Tom would stumble out Tippy Tom would walk about Tippy Toms gone missing

I saw the troll That lived under the bridge But he wasn’t scary not one smidge His hair was greasy And teeth all jagged

Have you ever wondered How the clouds move along If you believe its the wind I’ll tell you that your wrong I sit behind these clouds

He was the greatest hero From a time that’s long and passed He cleans the streets to this day Though he now gets easily gassed They found him wondering in a park…

I cannot do my work is what he had… With my room a mess and the dog to… So he fed the dog and cleaned the… Then sat at his desk with an appen… I cannot do my work is what he had…

They finally caught him Old no neck nick They tried plenty before But he gave them the slip He’s short and he’s quick