I CAN'T WRITE A POEM
You must be kidding!
My dog ate my brain, so I can't think.
To many flying cows.
It will zip me , if i try.
The zombies took the poem book.
It’s too much excruciating pain to write.
The aliens ate my hands.
Minions hunted me down, because I was writing a poem!
The zombie were looking for me
Clowns get depressed when I write it
My hand is a zombie, so I can’t write.
Times up? Uh Oh!
All I have is this dumb list of excuses.
You like it? Really? No kidding?Thanks a lot! Would you like to see another?
Bottom of ninth.
Runner on first.
Over the outfielders.
Deep into the stand.
To the windows
He’s eyes on birds
Sun through clouds
Spotlight on birds