a poem by my grampa
EPITAPH
For ev’ry tile he fixed, he’d write some rhyme
He was a verse-a-tile fellow, in his time
- Sam McCormick (aka Poet Nauseate)
A bungee-jumper’s final song - !
He used a rope, six-feet too long
And since his rope was that much bigger
We didn’t need a grave-digger
Poor Sam - already six-feet under
Because of measuremental blunder
(A danger always on the cards
when changing metres back to yards)
For ev’ry tile he fixed, he’d write some rhyme
He was a verse-a-tile fellow, in his time
- Sam McCormick (aka Poet Nauseate)
A bungee-jumper’s final song - !
He used a rope, six-feet too long
And since his rope was that much bigger
We didn’t need a grave-digger
Poor Sam - already six-feet under
Because of measuremental blunder
(A danger always on the cards
when changing metres back to yards)