Every Sunday
I used to engage
In getting a poem
Down onto the page
With rhythms haphazard
And rhymes so poor
Despite these drawbacks
You could be sure
To read something new
Every week without fail
But my poetry skills
Began to get stale
No matter my effort
The rhymes didn’t flow
After hours of work
I’d have nothing to show
But it’s poetry month
Two thousand seventeen
So I’d love to get back
Into this routine
Cuz I’m out of practice
Please cut me my slack
Be that as it may
My bad poetry blog’s back!
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