THOUGHTS
When I sit here sometimes,Strange silly thoughts.
Run through my rhymes,
Listening to myself,
If I ever had the time.
All sorts of silly strings,
Run through my mind.
I'd really like to learn to write,
I just don't have the time.
When I sit here sometimes,
Curled up with a book.
Turning pages over,
I climb inside to take a look.
All thoughts of ghoulish things,
Pass before my eyes.
Including that silly rude ghost,
That goes bum in the night.
Sometimes when I like to think,
I'd sit on my bottom trying to
make up rhymes.
I wish that I could remember,
But I forget them all the time.
Yes I wish that I could remember,
But I forget them all the time.
Poetry by Alan J Ripley
Read 79 times
Written on 2023-07-27 at 00:09
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