There once was a man name Bargeral
Who lived just south of Fargo-al
He couldn't make a rhyme
But poems won last time
So he's going to give it his best try-geral.
Ok, that was bad. I don't deserve to win. But I'm going to.
I live in cold Minnesota,
But this year it just won't snow-ta
Never mind…
…poems don't need to rhyme, but if they don't they must be sad. I think it's a law.
Sadly he walks, alone. Cold. To the bus stop, dark before dawn, dark before home. A victim to the northern lights. Coldly he walks in the door. Supper's not ready. Bills are waiting. The TV blares other's entertainment. The PC sits cold, unused, unloved. The GPU spins idle to facebook. It is sad. The cucumbers slide slowly off the wall. Depression knocks because death cannot be bothered and took the week off to tour the Spanish countryside. Life. Don't talk to me about life. Oh, that's copyrighted. Fair use laws apply. Fair use laws apply.