What’s in a quatrain,
a poem or prophecy,
or gobbledy-gook.
I chose the latter,
I am mad like a hatter,
and it’s time for tea.
A pizza for one,
that is one pizza for me,
make it a big one.
A coke on the side,
a bottle and not the can ,
and that was crushing.
Soon day didn’t last,
because it’s end came too soon,
and over and out.
The bed took me there,
to the next and lovely day,
I hope it will stay.
