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What topic shall I pick, to rhyme on about?
I’ve got the short end of the stick, ’tis without doubt..
Of flowers and fairies, I’ve written all that I can
Of rainbows and butterflies, and the rare odd snowman..

Like bullies, me old poems, they belittle my soul
I’m all out of words, they say, I’ve crested that knoll
How many valleys and skies must you praise?
Find out some new ones, bellow my eyes with a glaze…

The sun, the moon, the stars are all so so bored
They’ve been written about, now they wish to be ignored…
The waters of the seas, and rivers and little lakes
Have sadly all been part of my many past mistakes…

What then should I rhyme on? What poetry remains?
I’m going slightly crazy, trying to wrack my brains..
Maybe I’ve lost the ability to see, yet maybe I still can
Maybe my next inspiration should be Batman!