How the World Should Work

Some-one told me, that-my-written poetry

Is hard to read and hard to get the rhyme

So I took a quick glance, a punctuation dance

And decided I would help them this one time

It’s LETters, you see, that make UP my poetry

But the rhythm might be hard to figure out

So I’ll try my very best, and unLIKE all of the rest, I’ll count the syllables and make them cast no doubt

For when writers write a rhythm

There’s a certain algorithm

That we stick to because IF we don’t we die

And that would really suck

Because I’d BE like “what the fuck?”

We followed every rule and every lie

So here it goes again

I hope you BROUGHT your own ink pen

But if you didn’t, stress the cap words as you try