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Quatrain Funny Poems | Quatrain Poems About Funny

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Forbidden Fruit

Forbidden fruit is sweetest, or that’s what they all say
So I thought I’d give it a try and went for some today
I didn’t know just what to choose something firm and hard or what
So I thought I’d take a sample of everything they’d got.

There was some really hard ones, some were ripe and very sweet
But I chose one in the middle and it looked good enough to eat
I caressed it very gently and waited for it to please
I nearly didn’t go through with it, I was really gonna tease.

My taste buds are not set for sweet they prefer something more savoury
But no I stuck to my guns but I want no awards for bravery
I took one that looked just right, its rich colour tempted me to bite
But have you ever bitten a persimmon, that isn’t really ripe?

It sucks the moisture out of your mouth and covers you teeth in wool
Believe me you just try it; I am not giving you any bull.
Now for those that thought the fruit, would be some other man
Maybe that’s on my ‘to do’ list, before I kick the can……….LOL

Shame on you all, for all your naughty thoughts
Especially for those of you, that can’t keep it in their shorts
To all those that do struggle, to keep the forbidden fruit at bay
Just remember the persimmon and you will never rue the day.
© ~GG~ 4/12/2012


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DARE WE

~Dare We~ Side by side in the full moonlight, looking up in wonder Shoulders rubbing, breaths, mingling hands begin to wander Daringly we looked together, would we really dare… No one about we can try, there seem no eyes to stare. Hand in hand we start to hide away from the moonlit sky We really want to do this, but we are feeling rather shy Should we in this moonlight, try to recapture our youth? He takes his shoes and socks off, I am excited now in truth… His pants come down, I kook aghast, “they cost a lot” I heard him say. My shoes and jacket I remove, deciding it's time to play He takes me by the hand; our bodies mingle and turn together We feel so young this moonlit night with outstanding weather. His legs shine white, silhouetted against the moonlit sky Now is the time, there's no one here, I am not letting this pass me by Up and down, slowly, carefully, his body looks so lean I can’t believe we are sneaking a go on our neighbour’s new trampoline...
© 5/08/2012 ~GG~


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Admissions of a Sloth

I like to exercise my mind, but how I hate to work.
Whatever needs exertion is the action that I shirk.
Labor with the brain is fine.  I do it all the time.
How I love to sit and read or think of words that rhyme.

But send me to the bathroom with a brush so that I'll scrub,
and I'll barely rub the ring off.  Then I'll lie there in the tub.
Peek inside; you'll find me, a novel in one hand,
resting as I'm soaking in my own little Bubble Land.

Clean the oven?  What a joke.  The most that I can stand
is loading up the wash machine (a task that's merely bland).
Maybe run the vacuum once a week across the floor,
and quickly dab where dust is bad; most stuff I ignore.

As my jobs all pile up, housework's even more a chore.
Why must work that's physical be such a dreadful bore?
My well-ingrained aversion to utilizing muscle
does have one exception: at the gym I like to hustle.

To kick box is so fun although it makes me sweaty.
Step and dance are choreographed.  For those I'm always ready.
But I wish that just as quickly as from running on a tread
I could burn up calories doing workouts in my head!


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Venus Courts Mars on Valentine's Day

A single red, heart-shaped balloon isn’t enough
So I splurge and buy fourteen adorned by cupid
I tie them to the chair of my beloved “Hot Stuff”
To think mere balloons might please him would be stupid

So I search and search for the grandest tea roses
His favorite warm colors are all blended in each 
His desk they decorate in striking poses
Hope these will do the trick and his passion beseech

But then I remember his strong chocolate craving
Godiva treats I purchase and spare no expense
Set beside roses, surely he’ll be raving
He’ll be home in an hour; I can’t bear the suspense

When the door opens, I am wearing a teddy
The Valentine card he takes with a gloomy look
When he sees his desk, he wails, “Enough already!”
And he doesn’t even try my straps to unhook

How puzzled I feel when he says, “We have to talk”
No, he hadn’t forgotten this lovers’ holiday
Into his small closet he suggests we should walk
He seems so depressed; I’d expected a hooray

Piled high in the closet are all occasion gifts
Gaudy Christmas sweaters and tons of chocolate hearts
He can’t find his clothes and between us grows a rift
To sort through this maze, he would need a detailed chart

“Take all this stuff with you and please just leave my home
In fact, I’ll pay your expenses to relocate
And be sure to take that hideous garden gnome
Make it snappy, will you?  I have a date at eight!”



*For Joyce’s “Emotional Response” contest


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Crazy Thoughts No 1

Why do they call it 'tourist season'
If you're not allowed to shoot 'em
Seems like a great opportunity
To end the over crowding problem

If a house fly loses both of its wings
Would we have to call them 'walks'
Is it possible to have a civil war
Of course not that's just silly talk

Any idea what the best thing was
That came before sliced bread
If a turtle somehow loses its shell
Is it homeless, naked, or dead

I find this saying quite unnerving
“Practice” is what doctors do
And braille on drive-through windows
Find that kinda scary don't you

If a parsley farmer ever gets sued
Can they legally garnish his wages
Well that's enough of this silly talk
At times I go through these phases

© Jack Ellison 2012


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Twas the Night Before Christmas

(warning: adult humor) Twas the night before Christmas when I and my groom finally found a motel but with just one room. My groom was in the bathroom - leaving me alone- so that he could douse himself with some cheap cologne. I - in my red negligee - thought of bump and grind, visions of his sugar plums dancing in my mind. Then a noise I heard outside gave me such a fright! who was out there in the snow on our special night? Opening our small room’s door, I felt like a goof. It was just an icicle falling off the roof. Then I felt a sudden breeze. One unlucky bride! As the door behind me shut, I was locked outside. When upon my motel door I began to pound, it was clear that my dear groom did not hear a sound. Right before my startled eyes, what should then appear? Someone dressed as Santa Claus, filling me with fear! His eyes, though not so cheery, lit up, seeing me as he crossed the street and came stumbling drunkenly. I stood helpless, trembling in scanty siren red when an icicle fell down clunking my poor head. I revived in the ER, thong still on my rump! Underneath my bandage was an enormous lump. Thankfully my groom was there, smelling of Old Spice. But we’d have no chance to give gifts naughty and nice. At our room I later saw Santa Claus was there - that same guy who’d seen me in sexy underwear. Having seen my accident he’d informed my groom right before he then collapsed stone drunk in our room. Santa on our honeymoon with cheeks rosy red, (but not one “Merry Christmas”), stole our wedding bed. For Jerry's "What's up with Santa" Poetry Contest


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Things I Don't Understand

There are things I don't understand
And would really like to know
Such as why they call it rush hour
And you move so freakin' slow

How come you get a learner's permit 
To get a license to drive a car
But they don't give one for a marriage license
Now I think that's going too far

Why do they put deer crossing signs up 
Do you believe there is really any need
In all my years of driving
I've never met a single deer who can read

I was reading a map in the park
And it definitely astonished me so
It had a red X that said you are here
And I was wondering how they know.


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Trochee--A Penny Saved Is a Penny Earned

Rosie loves to find a deal ! She will browse around Bargain basements have appeal, shopping underground ! Nosy people tend to say how she wastes her time! Satisfaction, comes her way If she saves a dime ! ~ 4/7/15 For Trochee Contest: Sponsored by Andrea Dietrich


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My Sister Is An Alien!

My sister is strange
There's no doubt about it
She's an Alien,  that's why
Just get up and shout it!

Her mind control crying
Gets her anything she wants
I say "That's not fair!"
But she just looks at me and taunts

My sister is strange
There's no doubt about it
She's an Alien,  that's why
Just get up and shout it!

It's just a disguise
I'm on to her
Is she scaly
Or covered in fur

My sister is strange
There's no doubt about it
She's an Alien,  that's why
Just get up and shout it!

She's spying on us
They 're ready to invade
So don't just be frightened
Be very afraid!

My sister is strange
There's no doubt about it
She's an Alien,  that's why
Just get up and shout it!


She knows I'm on to her
She's calling for friends
So run for your life
And hide till it ends


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A Zulu Warrior

Do you sometimes see a Zulu Warrior Staring back from the mirror in the morning! A nasty fierce looking bad tempered dude Obscenities flying out without warning Crabbing bout having to make a living But enjoying all the many accoutrements If it wasn't that, it'd be something else People just love to complain and vent A shower and shave, you're almost human Not one person will ever suspect That a member of the Zulu Warriors tribe Was a coworker of great respect Do you sometimes see a Zulu Warrior Staring back from the mirror in the morning! © Jack Ellison 2012


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Laughter The Best Medicine

Forty years of married life, the couple set out to celebrate
Fine dining beautiful wine, and a waltz with stumbling gait
Turning to her husband she demands for him to remember details
Quickly he answers, “Yes darling, your beautiful dress, my hat and tails.”

He walked beside her hand in hand she notices a tear drop that falls
Thinking he’s sentimental she demands to know what he does recall
Sighing wistfully looking at the stars he tells her, it was before they did wed
Your father had a shotgun, he said if I didn’t turn up I'd wish I was dead.

“Why do you remember that, is there nothing more romantic you can say?”
The virago of a wife demands more memories of the wedding day…
The husband sighs “He said he would send me to jail for forty years at the very least“ 
I just had a thought, if I hadn’t married you, tomorrow would be my day of release……


© 28/11/2012~GG~ 

Entry for Laughter The Best Medicine sponsored by Vie


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Wet but Wiser

A dog! A panic in a pagoda!
Rex sneaked in with a can of cream soda,
he shook it up hard and then pulled the tab.
But Rex was too slow for their choc'late lab.

Cain: a maniac, the brown dog's head swelled,
confused by the fizz but a rat he had smelled.
He was a god's dog, ergo, a ogre -
mighty fine watchdog, well-trained at Kroger.

Schooled in their stockroom with all kinds of nuts
whose tricks won ribbons for all kinds of mutts.
Cain's radar kicked in, went straight for the can
and turned it on Rex who lost his game plan.

On the way out, he offered some Kleenex.
No one's the wiser, except maybe Rex.
Recording the facts, Cain writes in his log,
Was it a rat I saw? or Am I a dog?


6 palindromes:
A dog, a panic in a pagoda
Cain, a maniac
god's dog
ergo, a orgre
radar
Was it a rat I saw


6



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Soup Addict

I just can't believe it
I'm addicted to soup
I can't put the spoon down
I continue to scoop

So many flavours
I can't get enough
It's like there's heroin
They put in this stuff

Sure I can quit
Any time I want
But wait a minute
Look at that font

A few more minutes
Perhaps an hour or two
Good thing I kept reading
I got introduced to you


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First Snowfall

Snow falls softly late one night In the darkness it does bask I dread the job tomorrow Shoveling will be my task Beauty is in the eyes of the viewer I see nothing but giant flakes of work The trees all have snow on this first shower Dreading the day of a job using torque The pathways are snowed over All with a reflective white I want to get to bed soon For I know tomorrow’s plight I’m mesmerized by the beautiful scene Not a thing is without some wondrous snow Even though I sure do dread the next day I will put on a great, wonderful show This time of year affects me Seems to rub off some great cheer I will find a way to smile Though there’s snow up to my rear
Russell Sivey Form Quatrain-1st, 3rd, 5th stanzas have 7 syllables, 2nd, 4th stanzas have 10 syllables


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Hair

We've always been obsessed with hair Ponytails or long and flowing Medusa's hair would turn you to stone If you gazed on it, no joking In the 60s a Broadway hit called “Hair” With its popular anthem “Aquarius” Prompted a new age of sexual revolution Some of the sights were hilarious What's the attraction I don't understand Seems kinda primitive to me Being obsessed with this body adornment It's kinda pagan wouldn't you agree Imagine if we had the same obsession With some other interesting parts How about plump and rhythmic derrieres Call it “Bums” with the hit song “Farts” Sorry I got totally lost in my thoughts Such a silly billy I am So back to poetry about social issues To prove I can be serious, I can © Jack Ellison 2012


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There Goes Your Life

There goes your life
Ain't ya gonna get it?
It's gonna pick up speed
Ain't ya gonna stop it?

I don't know where it's going
But it doesn't look so great
I think you better stop it
Before it gets too late

I think you ought to slow it down
Before it gets in a crash
Think of what may lie ahead
And don't do anything else rash

There goes your life
I hope that it can swim
I hope that nothing too bad comes
Because of your sudden, stupid whim

There goes your life
You set it on it's way
Now ain't ya gonna catch it?
Or shall we close our eyes and pray?


April 2010


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Poets

Poets
Why is it poetry, is a like dirty word and talked of in undertones?
It’s like a naughty postcard, more flesh than there are bones.
Poets tend to deny their art, “I’m not a poet, I’m a rhym-er”
Come on you lot get stuck in don’t be a poetry two-timer.

After a glass of alcohol some may admit-“I like a little verse”
“But no I m not into poetry…” It’s like a speech they did rehearse.
Now poems I’m getting good at, but famous poets I don’t know any
Don’t ask me if I’m a poet, because in wages I don’t earn a penny.

Now rhyme I am not bad at, but at free verse I would stink
As for haiku, senryu, and other forms, I stink I really think…
I listened to some so called poets; decry their art the other day
They denied their art while they listened, to what each other had to say.

Standing there with their poems held high, “I’m not a poet” they all said
Well get down from the microphone and let’s hear a poet instead…
They pass their poems around the table, like some black market currency
Not wanting anyone to see it, but they are at a reading for poetry.

So be loud and proud you poets stand firm for what you believe in
Tell them you are a poet, and just get used to all the teasing
I used to be a shy poet and I write verse with some frivolity
But the definition in my dictionary says “words with a pleasing quality.”

So now I am open to judgement from all of you wonderful poets
You have all commented on my work, but do you really know it?
You all have qualities that scare me, you really seem so clever
So can I finally admit to being a poet, from now on  and forever?	
~GG~ 27/09/2012
 




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Fang Decay

Dracula needed dentures,
That's the story I've been told
The man was getting up in age,
Nearly seven centuries old!

He refused to see a dentist,
While losing his fatal bite
He soon became a laughing stock,
Not a soul feared him at night!

The Transylvanian Drooler,
His newly appointed name
He lost his reputation,
His bite was rather lame!

Each time he'd suck a neck,
His victims failed to succumb
He had no fangs to penetrate,
For all he could do was "gum!"

No more humiliation!
It was time to buy some teeth;
His remaining shred of dignity,
Sank to the gutters beneath!

A brand new set of choppers,
Created a lovely smile
Soaring back to action,
Has always been his style!

Behold, another damsel,
How could she escape?
He swooped around the corner,
Binding her with his cape!

He took one mighty bite,
With very little effect
When he tried to pull away,
His teeth were stuck in her neck!

His face turned red as a beacon,
What a mockery to the undead
His victim cried with laughter,
Then smacked him across the head!

Dracula quit the business,
Heeding retirement's call
Suckin' down Bloody Marys,
Toothless and gummin' a straw! 


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Poets Despair

I despair at writing poetry
I'm not sure I have the skill
Just can't seem to find the words
Or bend them to my will

It's hard to sum up what I mean
And make it sound succinct
So as a poet should I stop
And quietly go extinct?

Should I lay my pen to rest
And let it gather dust?
But something seems to urge me on
To write is now a must!

So putting pen to paper
I'll scribble just for fun
And maybe one day very soon
A poet I'll become!


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Prelude to a Poke

I do not recall
The bravado with which I spoke
The titillating prose
Seduction’s prelude to a poke
You spoke of love
with a lust that I understand
your heart a bloom
your derriere met my hand
I pulled you closed
my eyes nearly met yours
your bosom winked  
thank God I wore drawers
Do you not see
that my passions are pure
a burning in my loins
for which water has no cure
We gazed upon the heavens
I wrapped her in the moonlight
I looked at the time
my prayers faded into night
We danced till dawn
I had answered her romantic call
I whispered sweet somethings
Before her foot procured my fall


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Beyond Salvage

An old herbal gard’ner turned bard
dedicated and well-versed
now works his pen from his backyard
in plants and poems immersed.

His choice nouns engender meaning
cleverly minted with scents.
Rare verbs gingerly gleaning
from time’s savory essence.

Somewhat focused on composing
but nettled by a drizzle;
unexpected down-hosing
causes his brain to fizzle.

Lo! His inspiration now gone
like the ink upon his page.
Mrs. Bard calls from the lawn
“I just watered the sage.”


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The Lovers Moon

How do we meet under a lover’s moon?
What does this moon look like?
Will it give me a lover?
Or will it send me on my bike?

Why be under a lover’s moon
Does it imbibe powers of prowess? 
Of does it hide their shyness 
If in a state of near undress.

A harvest moon a blue moon
A waning and a waxing one
A new moon an old moon
And yet only one precious sun.

People cast their seed
On the first full moon in spring
They say it gives the best crops
And that’s saying something.

There are dances in the moonlight 
For those with nefarious thoughts
Bet they‘d get a fright
When lycanthropics, rampage and cavort 

On the night the moon is full what a shock for all the lovers 
A werewolf jumps on them, just as their delights each uncovers
So blue moon new moon, harvest moon of just full
Which is the lover’s moon so my dreams I can fulfil?

© ~GG~ 21/12/2012


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Retired, B%$#@ing Movie Star

Where's the point?
Why go on?
I've got no support,
to face the dawn.
The brought me lust,
the got me friends.
In them I did trust,
numbers to all the men.
They got me on the cover,
of every magazine.
Cindy Crawford, move over,
they were quite a team.
Those were the good times,
they were at their best.
Now at the age of 79,
their just two old sagging breasts!
:0)


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Emotions in Motion


Pleasure threw a party for her friends to come,
she sent invitations out to each and every one.
There were 10 responses and Pleasure did assume
it would be fun to see them interacting in one room.

Unfortunately the 10 who were about to show
had issues with each other ,things she didn’t know.
Joy had left depression just a month before,
couldn’t tolerate his negativity no more.

Paranoia kept Bewildered so confused,
the more mixed up she got the more he was amused.
Affection tried to help Obsession understand,
how her food  addiction was getting out of hand.

Apathy was drinking wine coolers as a crutch,
all emotions were aware that she indulged too much.
Acceptance and Joy showed up late but seemed content,
they were welcome at every emotional event.

Depression was not over Joy, he saw her and felt blue,
Bewildered  was sure that Paranoia hid her shoe.
Anxiety lost Acceptance and nervously confessed
he brought Assertiveness to help him mingle with the rest.

Affection accused Obsession of eating the buffet,
Paranoia tried to leave, Assertiveness stood in his way,
in the kitchen drinking by herself was Apathy,
Joy and Acceptance both enjoyed the hospitality.

Then Joy helped Bewildered put both of her shoes on,
Paranoia fell for Apathy, they both stayed till dawn.
Acceptance told Anxiety she 'd liked him as a friend,
Affection said “I’m sorry” to Obsession in the end.

Pleasure was quite happy only 10 guests were there,
if there had been more it might have been a wild affair,
each one settled, got along and as you can presume
all emotions set in motion made for a busy room.




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4 in less than forty

                           1 

Have to be somewhere in 40 mins
Enough time to write at least one
Fortunately I’m not using and pens
Else I would not be close to done

Of course you see the form I write
One familiar yet still complicated
It should be easy I write every night
Why my poems are often post dated

Halfway there only three minutes gone
Can I write eleven of these in my time
Maybe but could I post them all as well
Not sure, but I wouldn’t even bet a dime

The last I didn’t rhyme of first and third
I will admit I normally will rhyme abab
But in my amount of time that’s absurd
I am trying to finish quickly as you see

                             2

I already finished one how about another
The next line already in my head of course
Now you are probably saying o brother
This guy is a distinct body member of a horse

Really it’s just practice and having a bit of fun
I am definitely bored at this very early hour
I’m also texting a friend here and think of pun
I’d tell her what I think, but she might be sour

The last of course was purely a joke my friend
No evil thoughts currently in my head Miss PD
I at present, do not have that emotion to lend
Or maybe it was serious the last stanza hehehe

This is so much fun, a great way to pass time
You should try it, if you would possibly dare
I have said time a million times in my rhyme
Take time reading them, go ahead and stare


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Mice For A Very Good Price

I opened the door,
Saw two nice mice,
At Pete's Pet Store;
For a very good price.

I bought them that day,
With money I had saved,
Raking and hauling hay;
For my neighbor, Mr. Dave.

I purchased a bowl,
Just for their food,
And a bottle with a hole;
For drinking water through.

I named one Ice,
He had clear blue eyes,
The other, I named Spice;
He was the smallest in size.

Ice would take small bites,
Of cheese and treats of rice,
Spice made noise at night;
Munching bread - I had sliced.

I'll never forget the day,
Mom said, "Look Price!"
And lying in their hay;
Were two bald baby mice.


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THE CONTEST WINNER

I have entered many poetry contests
to display my best...an amazing number of sixty or more,
only one of my poems has won first place;
poets are like enduring athletes who fight to the very core! 
 

One big hurray goes to myself for the first win,
congratulations to the other participants
who are on the top of that list, or have been
awarded Honorable Mentions for their efforts!  


When my poem doesn't make it to the finalists's list,
I don't feel discouraged, I brazen out the doubt and try again;
even Lance Armstrong, with his skills, can't always win his race,
and the trophy must be given to someone else!


I rejoice when some of the chosen poets appear 
on the winners' list; I am happy for their accomplishment,
and into a word-restricted message's box I gladly comment
on their poetry...with the insight of an achiever!


And for those whose names never made it as previously thought,
I honestly tell you, from experience, not to be a bit discouraged...
your time will come when your enthusiasm will require a big shout;
never put the word, " Winner " to rest, write for fun and persist instead! 


Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci


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Word Set

Never has there been a word
With more meanings, I have learned
Than this trinity of letters
That set so nice when together

The Oxford English Dictionary
set down 62 columns, so worthy
Which will have you all set
Please forgive that little jest

When you set forth to search and see
For yourself the word you need
Your search for a synonym you'll find
Sets within your Thesaurus kind

Don't let your idea be so rigid set
That you can't bend your mind and let
This little word set you off in the right direction
To help you fulfill your literary perfection


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The Child in Me

Soda pop and gum drops
A river full, so sweet
To be that child I once was
All that candy, I would eat

Not worry about a cavity,
the dentist or my skin
Just concerned with getting more
And filling it within

A jawbreaker, some nonpareils
Bazookas and candy dots
Sour apples and baby ruths
Oh I love it all a lot


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Criminal Act

Okay, Okay I'm sorry
I don't know how you feel
I won't do it again
Please hear my appeal.

I never realized 
What I was doing at the time
I never realized 
That it was such a horrible crime

I  promise I won't forget
It'll never happen again
So please don't dial nine-one-one
Please don't turn me in.

I swear to you, I do, I do
That I will be more discrete
And every time I use it
I will put down the seat.