Rap Poem by Paul Butters

This rap seems c**p,
But it’s where it’s at,
Or was,
By all accounts.
At least it rhymes.
Recalls good times.
Eminem keeps us driving,
Ducking and diving.
Better than skiving.
I think I’m arriving.

The rhymes keep beating,
There’s no competing.
I’ll have to stop bleating.
There’s no defeating
This.

No violence from me,
Just a cuppa tea,
And yes it’s all free,
Tee hee, hee hee.
Time to go for a.....
Martin and I robbed a bank,
There’s a verse
That really stank:
Written as a teen,
Well you know what I mean.
At least I’ve now come clean.

Well I still prefer free verse,
Though not so good for my purse.
Yes it is the poet’s curse
To be poor,
Or even worse.
Though I’m never too averse
To write doggerel.

Hope you enjoy,
As with words I do toy,
If a little coy,
Oh boy, oh boy.

No deep meanings here,
Nothing so queer,
It’s time
To disappear.

P.B. AKA Skryboss, Yorkshire, Monday 3\8\08 at 16.40.