Today is BAD POETRY DAY. So here’s my first attempt…
Roses are red,
violets are blue.
I hated your class,
and so did everybody else.
Okay, here’s another attempt:
Two roads diverged in a black forest cake,
Split, as a woman’s locks – murdered by a Sears hair-dryer (not be used while sleeping).
In the vast cold, darkness of my nightmarish frosting,
Let them eat pie.