NOTHING TO WRITE ABOUT THEN THIS HAPPENS
Today I fell out of bed,Everything feels sore,
From my toes to
The top of my head.
Wish I'd taken Viagra instead:
To stop me rolling,
Out of my bed.
Waking up my whole family,
There must be easier ways,
To wake up, Especially,
When your dieing for a pee.
Giving my carol a bit of a surprise.
Last night I had nothing to write,
Then this happens to me:
If there is a God,
Then God bless the God of poetry,
For giving this to me to write and other stuff.
But please tell me my lord above,
Why does poetry have to hurt so much.
Poetry by Alan J Ripley
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Written on 2024-09-21 at 07:03
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