I cant stop grinning
Much to your chagrin.
The face is now aching
Heart filling up to the brim.
The insides are burning
The mood is not yet grim.
Although, its fast growing
The beard needs a trim.
I wish you were thinking
Of not making a prim.
If done with the accusing
Standup & accept your ruin.
What were you thinking?
I am extraordinarily dim.
Accuse me of cheating
Watch me go over the rim.
Kick someone else now
With your fancy and your whim.

Tagged: poetry