I don’t like brown mustard
Or an ice cream cone that leaks
I don’t like asparagus
Green beans, squash or beets

I don’t like to wear new shoes
They pinch and squeak a lot
And I don’t like cold weather
Or when it gets too hot

I don’t at all like spiders
Or other crawling things
Any creepy crawly
That bite…or worse…they sting!

I don’t like commercials
The things they try to sell
Who on Earth would need or want
A digital dinner bell?

Mowing the lawn can drive me mad
I might buy a horse
To eat the grass I have to mow
But that’s absurd, of course

There are some things I really like
I might list them all sometime
But this poem’s already 6 stanzas long
And I don’t like long rhymes