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Christmas Cracker

O K - so its Christmas - (A weary Hooray)
And I'm trying to write some verse for Christmas day.
I made a good start , and then fell on my ass,
When my muse upped and left me. HOW COULD SHE!! HOW CRASS!!

She said she got no thanks for all that she'd done;
I told her to get her tanks offa my lawn!
I laughed till I cried at her hectoring tone,
But miss her remarks now I'm left on my own.

The last words she spoke, before she flew away,
Were " If you ask me nicely, right now, then I'll stay."
I'd heard these pathetic lines often before,
When in a bad mood I would show her the door!

So here I am, Christmas day, sitting alone,
Regretting my temper,still hoping she'll phone.
I hear my door open - feel my spirits lift....
But its just nosey Santa wondering why I've no gifts

Style / type: 
Structured: Western
Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Editing stage: 

Comments

You see right through me , Lonnie, I strained too much for a rhyme in this one.
Thanks for the honesty, I really value it

TIME FLIES LIKE AN ARROW, BUT FRUIT FLIES LIKE A BANANA

author comment

My muse is a slut, she sees other poets and visits me occasionally.

I'm considering the radical idea of writing my own fucking poetry and fuck the bitches.

cheers,
Jess
Neopoet Directors

I wish she would visit me occasionally, I wouldn't tell

Ian

TIME FLIES LIKE AN ARROW, BUT FRUIT FLIES LIKE A BANANA

author comment
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