His pencil would not write No matter how much he would scold… “It’s not about the pencil boy” “It’s about the one who holds it”

Hey diddle diddle you’ve reached t… And it appears you’ve not run away So try your best To finish the rest Even if it takes all the next day

A poem’s a poem If it ends in a rhyme A poet’s a poet If he writes in spare time A poet grows famous

Tomorrow I shall seize the day Tomorrow I’ll go on that run Tomorrow I’ll wake up right on ti… And get the yard work done Tomorrow I’ll finish that book

Skinny Sarah would eat and eat But all the weight just went to he… They got so big she could only fin… Driving poles in at the farm She’d pick em up and drive em in

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

The rains kept a comin It seemed they wouldn’t stop The clouds just kept on pouring Till they squeezed out every drop The lightning pierced the ground

I sat there on my couch all night And waited for one to come out These things are hard to catch you… If you move they scatter about Finally it poked out it’s nose

He was deemed the greatest no arme… Before his first fight ever begun He may have lost every match But he’s the best, and only one

Maybe just one more piece What could possibly go wrong It won’t really make a difference Oh dear it’s all gone...

You can hide it in make up But I know it’s still there A face designed Only to scare You can try to distract me