Poem With Whipsniffery Confidence
This zabregation of a Christmas elf with an elecogle in her voice
Had whipsniffery confidence; her name was Joyce.
It was with absolute crobulation that I said she could sing her song.
Her grundelling melody has proven I was totally abshootfully wrong.
If one of these frazzlemeisters tries to horn in to your choir,
Remember their elecogleness is something you will not desire.
With restippleness, I have to let you know, 2020 was now complete.
I had won the world’s worst mistake button, this year. Pretty sweet?
My objelousness mother will not let us back inside her church.
The wheeblefaeriebolds are ticlefanciness on a whipsniffery perch.
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