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...