Meg's (Ad)Ventures

Friday, February 23, 2007

The WORST Poetry Ever!

At 1:37 what does one think to themselves?
It's the middle of the night, can't sleep
Do I grab a book from the shelves?

A baby that stares
With wide open eyes
The papasan swing...we'll give that a try.

A drippy nose
A cough that could wake the dead
I swear to God there's a vice squeezing my head.

It's 1:44 now
What do I do?
Rhyming is not easy and I pity you
who reads this midnight rant
of mindless babble.

Jack and Layla
Are up now too
What is this night turning into?

Just one person is missing
Do I dare?
I'll wake Chris up, he won't care.

It's 1:59
My poetic license has expired.
It's time to sleep. I'm tired.

3 comments:

Hubby said...

The last verse is the best. Poor Meg can't take anything for her cold because she is breast feading. I think I'm getting it now, darn. Keep your chin up Meg, we'll get through this...

Anonymous said...

This stuff ain't good. Please get better to stop the suffering of your blog fans!

Mary said...

Just a quick check of the blog to see what's new, and I see you had a another sleepless night, Meg. Good thing it's the weekend and hopefully you can rest up. Isn't it interesting how the blogspot has grown to be the place where you and Chris express your thoughts and feelings so well. Really enjoyed your poetry and the way you open yourself up to everyone. Please ignore the unkind anonymous comment above.
Watch for our package!
Love, David and Mary