Felt like the steel tipped edges of a fake sword,
A young lover's sting, inclined to make one sob
And feel sorry

But no, not a word
Spoken 'gainst the face of the snob
Never a parry
Nor a word against sherry

So one day I went to the fair,
To see what it was I'd find there.
Though I thought I'd find food,
I found I just chewed
On some Fairy floss, and quite the share.

The colour? I couldn't decide...
Do I go pink or blue? (Both I've tried)
In the end though, I found
That the pink did abound,
So I wound up with blue, just in spite.

And thus started all of my tragedies.
It was so sweet that eating it was a breeze.
But then I got sick...
"To the dentist!" (I was quick)
Turns out I got 26 cavities!

Balloons are round,
They make my day.
Up in the sky
They bounce and sway.

Balloons are bouncy,
and they squeak loud,
But if you pop them
You draw a crowd.

Some don't like balloons.
I think that that's sad.
But to each his own,
So said my dad.

But look, now I ramble.
So here I'll sign off.
Enjoy this crummy poem.
Or don't. Whatever.
... Rhyme? Nah...