poem ’bout owt.

Sitting watching Tele
With me dinner in me belly
What a wasted life
Just sat there with the wife
Mixed emotions sit there fighting
Cos I really should be writing

But basically I’m lazy
Not to mention slightly crazy
So I sit there on me bum
Thinking should I take an um
breller in the morning
Mouth wide open yawning
Cos I’m bored.

A thought has just arose
Asking should I write some prose
Or a poem or a rhyme
Just to while away the time
It’s really hard to say,
Though I say it anyway
What’s the difference?

What exactly is a poem?
What on earth is called a prose?
And does it have to rhyme?
Or not?
You can’t write a poem about an orange
After all.

©joseph r mason 2019

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