A picture drawn with sidewalk chalk
Will always make me smile
And even in this modern age,
It won't go out of style.
When I was young, our pottsy games
Were proudly done in chalk
And passers-by, when glancing down,
Would not upon them walk.
My children decorated rocks
And our un-trafficked street,
Especially on holidays,
Which made the day complete.
There's an artist in the city,
De la Vega is his name,
Who in secret leaves his chalk impressions,
Earning him some fame.
But no matter who the chalker,
There is one thing that is clear,
When a downpour comes to visit,
All that art will disappear.
Categories:
chalker, art,
Form: Rhyme
He threw the dart,
it missed the board,
it hit my foot instead.
The next dart flew.
it hit a wire
then ricocheted t'wards my head.
It's a dangerous thing,
the game of darts.
Not for the faint of heart.
"Cause once they're drunk
they miss the board
and try, your hair, to part.
I can add
and I can subtract
so I don't mind keeping score.
But when those darts
miss the board
they don't always hit the floor.
I have scars
and I have bled
from darts, like missiles, thrown.
But if they don't stop
aiming for me
they can bloody well score their own.
Categories:
chalker, humorous, sports,
Form: Rhyme