Four Line - Jenny Poems 12

Windy times
blow about
the hats and hair
of those in doubt

Mired deep
in drudgery sleep
through REM to reap
the mind to keep

You're the patron
I'm the stool
sit upon me
so I may fool

And oh with that
I won't compete
I won't digress
I won't repeat

I'm too much
I must admit
I carried on
I threw a fit

You're the speed bump
I'm the issue
ride over slowly
bring a tissue

On the path
I saw a turtle
before I left
I named her Myrtle

I like the grass
up to my ass
no I don't
that would tickle

War is bad
while sex is good
guns are blazing
you give wood
 
If in the end
you still don't know
it's too late
you have to go