Well I have saved you all from really bad poetry tonight.

Thank your lucky stars.

I'm working and getting overtime.

Days off you'll find me huddled in my room.

The washing machine is broken.

The microwave has died.

My computer was crashing again, but saved by the light.

I think I'm writing really bad poetry right now.

It's either that or or if you were here

I will talk your ear off

with some accent from a country

I've never been too.

Perhaps I'm stepping over the edge

the smiling yawning abyss

can't wait to take what's left of me

and chew me up and spit me out.

This is written with humor

I know I've still got.

My scrubs are soaking in the sink

stouffers is thawing out,

Thank God for my computer

it's my only way out.