170417
Not a poo poem in sight
This happens every night
I don’t know what to write
I rhyme with all my might
But nothing comes out right
With page empty and white
I guess I’m not so bright
170417
Not a poo poem in sight
This happens every night
I don’t know what to write
I rhyme with all my might
But nothing comes out right
With page empty and white
I guess I’m not so bright