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Writer's Block

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 © | Year Posted 2011

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Date: 11/30/2011 6:15:00 PM
All three are awful conditions but you managed to give a laugh for each of them. Great limericks Joyce and best of luck in the contest!
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Date: 11/30/2011 6:14:00 PM
wow! A super thanks..Joyce.. have your self a good night,..p.d.
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