In an attempt to improve my mood, I am starting a new tradition. It is terrible poetry Monday. Please feel free to share your terrible poetry with the world. Stay tuned for a variety of terrible poetry composed by me. You will enjoy a variety of forms, but today I open with this:
T’was in the fair city of London,
That I rested my poor little bunion.
I open my sack,
And cried “Look at that!”
And took out the world’s largest onion.