There was a boy from Baltimore <br />no peers did like his style <br />perhaps a haemorrhoidal sore <br />(they also call it pile) <br />is causing him a lot of pain <br />and also it may leak <br />foul excrements that smell and stain <br />his future looks so bleak. <br /> <br />He goes around and leaves his turds <br />on neatly cut front lawns <br />not realising even birds <br />are tempted just to yawn <br />when he spits out from either end <br />his emetocathartic <br />he will have lost his final friend <br />just at the point of 'artic' *<br /><br />Herbert Nehrlich<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/no-limerick/
