Notes About The Poem
To the tune of Pop, Goes the Weasel...
Pop, Goes the Poem
All around the feathery quill
The poet penned his verses
Some are sweet, while others are shrill
And some move folks to curses
His poetry's sad; his poetry's mad
At times, it even makes your heart glad
That's why his lines are from the heart
Not blue, but red ink ~ true poetry smarts
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