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Joke is better
Keeps complaining poetess
That under stress and duress
There is no life and no peace
That's no good, my dear Miss, but where is our post police ?
Others got creative flow
Going fast or going slow
So we have poetic flood
Burying us in verbal mud
Lots of words of crying hell
From ones so hurt, they can't get well
Loosing life's endurance,
With no health insurance
Being heart broken and love sick
Empathy those writers seek
There is no place for joking
Tears got me choking
I myself can not complain
Except for age and mental pain
In the ass, which was once head
Where used to brain I had
Some like white bread, others rye
Joke is better than the cry
Let's postpone the crying
Till the time of dying
Fun!
"Where is the post police". My mind sort of wandered off to social networks and some peoples not so careful use of it. Internet is a funny thing. good work, this one.
I'm always lying, in fact, I'm lying to you right now.
Tnanks ! Let us keep
Tnanks !
Let us keep smiling ;-)