Best Suspected Poems
Come to an End, all these Good Things
(Youth and Hope and splendored Springs)
But, how can I ask for Fortune's to pass
When I've cut my throat, but still wish to sing...?
Mitchamaboola a trolling woman with a mean demeanor
Was losing her eyesight, according to her tattling dog, Weiner.
He told everyone he knew and some he did not even know.
She never knew who it was, because she was kind of slow.
She never suspected Weiner because he was a trickster for sure.
Pretending he could not speak human, masquerading as pure.
Mitchamaboola accused every person in her family and cut them off.
Sly dog Weiner laughed at her behind her chair, rolled his eyes and scoffed.
Rascal the rapscallion was a slyboots rogue
he fancied himself a pixie, spoke Irish brogue
we suspected he was a leprechaun hiding gold
he lived in Skeezicks Forest, Celtic land of old
I ripped off my skull and looked into my head.
Feigned shock that someone had stolen my brains.
No wonder my eyes did not work and I had stopped breathing.
I suspected the neighbor. I have never liked her.
I would have gone over there and demanded them back
But my legs would not work for some weird reason.
I listened to try to figure out if I was breathing.
There was nothing coming from my nose.
Luckily since my brains were gone, I did not know what this meant.
So I sat down and wrote this poem.
As I Suspected Not Connected
Of course, just as I had suspected;
To current crisis are nor connected;
Some cry holding each other's hand;
Money from poor Trump will demand.
How can this ever come to an end,
And again we will be a close friend;
On you do depend while we share;
God's care has always will be there.
Go to church and sermon shall hear,
Then will walk back out with any fear,
And can finish shopping at the store;
While God waited for you at the door.
Jim Horn
As We Suspected With Trump Connected
We always knew and surely suspected,
With Trump they had been connected;
A breath taker;
Trouble maker;
Debts he has needing to be collected.
Jim Horn