Poems ✍️
Poems ✍️
28.08.2026
3
Games With Rhyme
A man who really was a clone
stood near the public telephone.
He could not get a dial tone
nor did the little fellow own
a musiclover's saxophone.
The reason for this is well known
he had a broken knucklebone.
He judged that he would now postpone
the urgent call to Yellowstone.
Instead he used Eau de Cologne
to whip up his testosterone.
Alas, so sad. He was alone.
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