Pray that you shall never see
Algore tattoo’d with a tree.
A tree whose barren limbs are pressed
Against his fleshy, saggy breast.
Poems are made by fools like me,
But only Algore can shame a tree.
(My apologies to Joyce Kilmer.)
Got a poem, or even a limerick, begging to be heard?
Using this picture of Algore as your theme, give it shot in the comments. Be creative -- and clean. Puns are welcome.
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