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.

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