Rhyme

I’m just a girl who knows /

How to rhyme / 
All of the time /
But I never get a dime /
And that’s fine /
After all, it’s not a crime /
But, maybe, in my prime / 
The bells will chime.

 

In the meantime /  

I look forward to teatime /  

And bedtime /  

But, I, then dream of vines /  

Intruding my psyche, leaving grime /  

Making every day an up climb /  

It’s not like I can just put lime /  

In water to make it taste sublime. 

 

So, I listen to Benjamin Bernheim /  

It’s better than taking a dive /  

In all the cookie-cutter slime /  

We need more airtime  

With people with a spine /  

We all need a sign /  

That not everything has to rhyme  /  

But not past nine.