Feels like my fault. Skirt? Dirt? Spurt? Shirt?
This simple poem clears my mind
Oh, darn it all, I have no rhymes
I used to be so good at this
But this post reeks of donkey piss
It shouldn't be this hard to write
I need some Christmas joy
I'm wasting ones and zeros now
I'd like to not, but don't know how
I need to sleep. I said I would
But my brain won't let me make good
I am not thirsty. I've been fed
I have a very comfy bed
The cats are sleeping not on me
And I don't even have to pee
So what's the reason I can't sleep?
Hell if I know...