so, sometimes when I work at the library, I sometimes write silly little poems. Right now, I'm reading a book by Charles Dickens entitled "Hard Times." I would like to share my little poem with ya:
Hard times, hard times, the infamous crimes and impecable sublime of the warning signs.
It's a book. A book? In an indecent nook. A book? A book! An upcoming crook.
With pages and pages to last the ages. The pages and pages, like literary cages.
My brain! My brain! I'm going insane! Insane, my brain, you cannot imagine the pain!