I will begin with a smaller poem that shows my impeccable sense of rhyme and structure
Roses are red
Violets are blue
This line doesnt rhyme
And neither does this one.
Dont hate on me because I have a gift. But in all seriousness, poetry for me is about as much fun as a root canal, although it does have fewer dentists. Hmm...dentists...
As I sit there waiting in the chair
My heart does skip with every moment pas't
A voice calls out affirming my despair
"Dr. Rauch will see you now at last."
I trudge into a room so white and clean
A single tear runs slowly down my face
For I do know the horror yet unseen
My teeth the doctor wishes to efface.
His weapon is of cold and heartless steel
A grinding whir, a vicious tug and yank
A pain flows through me that is quite surreal
My mind doth crumble, leaving it most blank.
As I wake I slowly start to grasp
The doc forgot to give me laughing gas.
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