August 17, 2011 - 9:59 pm
In honor of Bad Poetry Day…
Roses are Red
Violets are Blue
Your hair smells like a funeral home.
Or…
Haiku need not rhyme.
You just count the syllables.
But I’m a bad poet.
Or this…
There once was a Texan lad,
Whose manners were terribly bad.
His blog posts offensive.
His comments insens’tive.
And even his limericks were wrong.
