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Paul Laughton Poem
See the crying of the poet,
I think he's angry at the mowatt.
He finds it hard to see the troll,
Overshadowed by the tiny sausage roll.
Who is that hating near the Trump?
I think she'd like to eat the diffusion pump.
She is but a yellow abbess,
Admired as she sits upon a labus.
Her cold car is just a snot,
It needs no gas, it runs on lot.
She's not alone she brings a Bible,
a pet snake, and lots of geibel.
The snake likes to chase a God,
Especially one that's in the assad.
The poet shudders at the painful catholic
He want to leave but she wants the non-catholic.
Copyright © Paul Laughton | Year Posted 2020
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