Poetry evades me

Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
I’m rubbish at poetry
show me your tits.

The problem with blogging and telling your closest “friends” that you are pouring your heart out to the whole world is that they insist on writing or quoting their favourite poem for you. The above is but one of many, fuelled by alcohol, funny at the time. It is no Sylvia Plath but it made me laugh.

© Copyright D. Archer October 2011