My H.W was a poem to write,
And as you will see it was a tough fight.
Because I truly had no clue,
Of how to rhyme in groups of two.
I started out indeed very slowly,
And it sounded pretty moldy.
And so I sat there sipping tea,
Trying to figure out the rhyming key.
But the taste of tea was good indeed,
That it had me fall into a heavy sleep.
And in my sleep I dreamt of,
Walking into a world so odd.
I dreamt of people only rhyming,
Not one word was out of timing.
Then I came upon an old man,
He held a fat book in his hand.
And he said,
"Although you know not of rhyming,
Of writing poems or correct timing.
The answers are all in the words,
All you need is similar sounding syllables."
Then to me it had occurred,
And I snapped out of that odd blur.
I put my pen to my paper,
And to finish it took me ten minutes no later.