A little, young monster was running about,
Screaming and shouting and being an arse,
about all the injustices he had been tasked,
to be performed before his allotted bedtime,
Surely cleaning up must be a crime!!
As he was yelling and kicking a fuss,
A mother downstairs was rolling her eyes and wondering thus,
"this is the reason that I started running,
"to prevent mental breakdown and and feelings of frust..
..tration and other calamities that,
lead to groans and feelings of doubt"
As she reached for her evening glass of wine,
and realised that the most horrible crime,
was not that the fact that her "evil spawn" had created
a reason to run harder and more,
but that the fact that she had at some point clearly relented,
and in a moment of drunken weakness consented,
to voluntarily run up a mountain in vain,
only to be stuck there in rain and in pain,
whilst hoping a sexy, young paramedic would rescue,
her with a towel, Tylenol and a 4-ply tissue.
Why did she decide a 'Half up a hill",
was a sensible thing to do when you're...
not running but actually on your way up it...
chronologically speaking, of course let's be honest,
that there are things you shouldn't consider
when 40 is closer than 30 on the columns and lists,
of check-boxes you tick when you take the surveys,
[That one didn't work really did it?]
Now this poem is starting to go a bit 'cock',
I knew I should have stopped and looked at the clock,
before I "topped-up" my empty glass,
because now people will read and be aghast,
that I could create such a terrible rhyme,
all because I had too much wine,
before my big race, the nerves got the better,
than the carefree attitude I had set.. ter
pon adopting because I had failed to train
due to the cold, the cloud and the rain
next time I decide that rhyme is the way to go,
because of the alcoholic flow,
I will pick a style that is more cerebral,
like shakespeare, or Chaucer, or the guy selling cereal
My only concern is that I am not the smartest,
and that iambic pentameter is a bit of an arse...