"A Rhyme in Time" by Summer Cheng

          I look around for a rhyme,

          A rhyme in time,

          as I pick up a dime-

           not a lime,

           or a piece of slime.

           It is not a crime,

           to watch a mime,

          perform a show,

        as you well know-

        oh, how I wish it would snow,

        as I hear someone mow,

         their grass,

         what a lass,

         with class.

     I  try  not to sass,

    the man who plays bass,

    inside his house,

    beside a mouse,

    in the middle of the night-

    without a fright.

     The fight,

    was won,

   with all his might,

    as he realized his shoes,

   were to tight,

     and his feet hurt,

       as he sunk:

    into the dirt.

     His mother told him,

     To put on a clean shirt-

     Before he went to bed,

    So he did as his mother said,

    and has never been the same,

      as he even changed his name.

   What is your game?

    It is driving me insane,

    as I try not to complain,

    about all the pain

    inside my head,

   from the sinus pressure,

    as I walk past my dresser.

      I thought I told you,

      To put the pressure washer,

      back up,

    so that others would not trip,

    over it  now,

   as I take a bow.

   Oh, what a cow,

  on the side of the road,

   or so I have been told,

    as if I were old,

    it is not made of gold,

    so why do I suddenly feel cold?

      The bread has mold,

      Yuck!  

    So, I threw it out

      as I try not to shout,

    or pout

    my dear,

    I am glad you are near.