Читать книгу Periodic Poetry - Gregory J. McKenzie - Страница 9

When you just cannot be told,

And get the idea to be so bold;

Then have woken up in a strange bed,

Only wondering if you are still to be fed.

Likely as not you're being a clot,

Or simply you just lost the plot.

Now you are looking for that one best friend,

Funny enough to make you unbend.

When being yourself one more time,

Seems to you such a crime;

You look to do something mad,

To make everyone think you are bad.

Yet the thrill of not feeling so glum,

Is enhanced when friends say its just a bit rum.