Friday, October 13, 2006
Poetry: The Food of Love
Or, in my case, the poo of boredom.
Here are a few limericks I wrote in class today.
This class, it used to be cool
Our prof, he wasn't a tool
But the lecturing started
And the fun was departed
Now I don't want to come back to school
Movies in class are great
You get to watch animals mate
Or you can sleep
And dream really deep
As long as you keep sitting straight
Right now I wish it was lunch
And I had a sandwich to munch
With turkey and cheese
As much as I please
And extra pickles that crunch
Take that Yates! You too Frost! (Dr. Seuss, you're still the master.)
Here are a few limericks I wrote in class today.
This class, it used to be cool
Our prof, he wasn't a tool
But the lecturing started
And the fun was departed
Now I don't want to come back to school
Movies in class are great
You get to watch animals mate
Or you can sleep
And dream really deep
As long as you keep sitting straight
Right now I wish it was lunch
And I had a sandwich to munch
With turkey and cheese
As much as I please
And extra pickles that crunch
Take that Yates! You too Frost! (Dr. Seuss, you're still the master.)
