On my way to work I run,
I often wish try to have fun.
I leave work as soon as I am done.
I lay outside and soak up the sun.
My hamburger is no good without a bun.
Why is it that I feel so cold,
the temp isn't low I'm told.
I'm starting to feel so old,
even my hamburger bun is growing mold.
Reading all these books is starting to make me crazy,
but if I don't read them I just sit down and feel lazy.
I lived in a house on the hill,
that's were I would stand or sit still.
I lived there because it was my will.
That hamburger is starting to make me feel ill.
I always lay down and sleep after i take my pill.
Can my poetry get any better?
Do I have to write a letter?