Today is Bad Poetry Day.
I wish I could find a way.
To actually rhyme some words.
And make something that isn’t for the birds.
But I’m not good at rhyming anything.
I think I’d rather just sing.
But I’ll give it a try
And see if I can fly.
I’d really rather stop time.
And not let August continue to climb.
It’s going too fast.
I think I need a flask!
But time marches on and soon September comes.
We can’t stop it, we must
succumb.
But the memories will be
great.
And next Augustpalooza we
will await.
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