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

My brother and I Once made a bet A stake of five dollars We had set We both agreed

If red means anger And blue is sad White is pureness And yellow is glad What does orange mean

In a corner alone Sat the chair with the teeth Locked away far From anyones reach If you sat down

He wore a helmet every day And pads on each limb His biggest fear was the moment An idea would hit him

If I could invent one thing It would be a bubble blower I’d make myself a bubble friend And really get to know her I’d make myself some bubble boxers

On a bench in the park sat a man dressed in grey feeding the seagulls that flew in from the bay he wished he could glide

If you walk past me Oh, the things you would not know There’s plenty of stories and tale… If you stop to say hello

The itsy bisty spider Came out the water spout Chased away my dog And drove my neighbors out I’ve stayed in this tree

I’ve sat here waiting On the corner of markway and dessm… Waiting for the perfect girl To come knocking at my door I often sit and wonder

I’ve drank 6 cups of coffee And I think I’m seeing things The walls and floors are shaking And stars have formed on the ceili… I think I’ll go for a jog

Into the room the child had run I have super powers his story begu… I can see through walls For real no lies So the parents got up

When you look at the world flat You see nothing but squares It all looks the same Lines all put in pairs Faces look straight

I always tuck my tongues Down into my socks I wouldn’t want them to scrape the… And have to taste the rocks I look out for my shoes

The pop gun out law rode from town to town on his steed he’d ride wearing his hat like a crown his name they would call