Pickle-Itis
Mr Moody yearned for a big pickle
His taste buds he needed to tickle
He ate twenty four
Then fell on the floor
Digestion can be oh so fickle
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
