This space is meant to have a pome,
I haven’t witten whum,
Bare the page, still the pen,
I sit here on my bum
It’s really rather dumb
No thoughts will ever come
Things are looking glum
My brain’s forever numb
I twiddle my thumbs
CRUMBS!
To hear the poem read aloud click HERE.
Weave a Web 
I’m smiling.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you!
LikeLike
I think this would be my thought process if I ever tried to write a poem 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
I think you’d make a good poet!
LikeLike
That makes for a sad column.
I was never a fan of strike-through bonbons.
It works like a broken Internet connection.
And tastes like a triple-soiled bubblegum.
And sounds like a fractured bass drum…
LikeLiked by 1 person
You remind me of Milton.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Milton, who would not regain his blog.
LikeLiked by 1 person