Bad Poetry. Again.

Today at work I found myself writing bad poems whenever I took a break. I don’t know why. I don’t write poems often. But I can be consistently bad at it. I tweeted about it, and someone asked to share one. So, here you go, dear reader, a bad poem from a work break:

You Don’t Fit

You don’t fit

In aisles too narrow for your hips

Should have turned sideways

Instead of bumping into things

Bruised body parts

Purple on white

Your head and torso do not fit in this

Awkwardly touching and avoiding

Exactly same polarity

I told you, you don’t fit

In clothes too tight for your tits.

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