Blue Cliff

This is a poem I scribbled in my binder in Mrs. Pugh’s 10th Grade English class. It means absolutely nothing. Thank you. 

Cliff was blue.

Cliff hadn’t a clue.

Cliff had no idea what to do.

Math was impossible

His teeth were unflossable.

Cliff hadn’t a clue

Cliff hadn’t a clue.

Cliff asked his wife,

“Where do I fit in, in life?”

Cliff’s wife replied with a lie,

“Just don’t remarry when I die.”

Cliff hadn’t a clue

Cliff hadn’t a clue.

Cliff asked the old buck,

“Why does my life suck?”

The old buck replied with a lie,

“Just don’t use that knife to end my life.”

Cliff ate the old buck that night.

He knew everything was going to be all right.

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