I asked my kind, obliging doc
To scan my brain for writer's block.
His words I recall,
"There's nothing at all.
Your head is made of solid rock."
My ever loving mama, harshly said.
"You look more than a little over-fed.
Stop eating for a minute
And just put a sock in it.
Your mama didn't raise no dumb blockhead."
I went out strolling in my brand new frock,
While forgetting to wear a strong sunblock.
The sun came out, my skin turned red.
Started to chill and went to bed.
When my honey touched me, went into shock!
For Destroyer Poet's contest
Copyright © Joyce Johnson | Year Posted 2011