Sometimes I eat apples,
and watermelons too,
I enjoy a good veggie,
and mom’s homeade stew.
But, what I don’t like,
I really can’t stand.
Poems that start out rhyming.
But, stop and don’t land.
They just keep on flying,
through day or the night,
to annoy the hell
out of whatever’s in sight.
If you happen to read
one of these things so poor,
I promise you won’t be begging,
begging for more.
But the ones that rhyme
and are very deep too,
are the ones that kick ass
like mom’s homeade stew.