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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
Everything changes bar one. Neopoet's 'Prime Directive'-
"Critique don't comment".
https://www.neopoet.com/community-guidelines

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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