Posted: March 16, 1987 in Poetry
Tags: ,

Without any humor
You’ll get a tumor
In your head
To make you dead.
Without any fun
You’ll get nothing done.
Your hair will go grey
And in bed you’ll lay.
Without any riddles
You’ll get round in your middles
From not laughing enough
Boy, that must be tough!
Without practical jokes
We’ll be boring folks.
Excitement we’ll lack;
You will live in a shack.
But without any humor
I’d make such a furor
So you’d put it all back

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