Ready or not, here is my attempt at a little, very little, poetry about the day after Christmas.
Twas the day after Christmas with wrapping paper galore,
ribbons and bows strewn all over the floor.
Everyone was examining their presents with care,
and wondered when to return them and, where.
There was the shuffling of paper all through the house,
as replacements were ordered with the click of a mouse.
When suddenly there came a terrible crash,
as everyone rushed to take out the trash.
A fat man on the collection truck said as he drove away,
"you didn’t make it, but we’ll be back someday."
PMO
©2017
1 comment:
Don't give up your day job.. .oh, yeah, too late.
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