Friday, January 19, 2018

poem of the day January 19


I was a little wobbley
when I walked upon the moon
The angle of the setting sun
had messed with my balloon
but still I trudged on 
with each and every step
to try to find the way
out of my cosmic mess
Then I saw the Russian flag
hanging on the Trump hotel
It was then I realized the
moon was of really made of cheeze
with a frosting made from hell

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