There once was a young writer in France,
Who for the New Year wanted to dance.
To get out of his rut,
Outside he did strut,
But forgot he was wearing no pants.
There once was a young writer in France,
Who for the New Year wanted to dance.
To get out of his rut,
Outside he did strut,
But forgot he was wearing no pants.
Filed under 2023, joke, joke by author, limerick, poem, poetry, poetry by author, Poetry by David E. Booker, writing humor