There was a young disc with some words,

There was a young disc with some words,

That really wanted to be heard,

So it jumped in the post,

Along with some toast,

And got lost by a stupid young turd.

By Dr Geebers

Words Are Words

Words are words we often speak,

To one another on the street.

Some small, some big, some really smart,

Some clever, some weird, mysterious and dark.

Some rude, some slang and never heard off,

Some passionate, some sexy and some full of love.

Some crazy, some intelligent, that catches the eye,

Some magic, some good at telling a lie.

Because words are words we often use,

In different languages which get us confused.

Made of vowels and constantans galore,

And used in scrabble to get a high score.

So as you can see words mean a lot,

So we can communicate or maybe not.

With abbreviations and plurals as well,

Words put together create a story to tell.

Some violent, some fiction, some horror to,

But with the wrong words trouble can brew.

Creating havoc now boys and girls,

Which can start war all over the world.

When peace is the word we all want to hear,

Forever and ever until it becomes clear.

For peace is the answer the word that's unique,

That may stop the violence that we all seek.

By Dr Geebers

Silly Little Rhymes

Silly little rhymes
Is what I only got
That are completely nonsense
Oh what a rot

Even all the neighbours
Hate these rhymes too
But do I really care
Should I really stew

I don’t think so
Because this is life for me
Writing down rhymes
That simply come free

Without a single care
Or even main concern
Since I am harming no one
Through what I want to learn

But when the truth comes out
And write it down too
Then people understand me
And the simple rhymes I do

Even though they may be angry
And full of lots of hate
It’s nice to write for everyone
So others can relate

Which makes it hard for poets
Who like to rhyme you see
Even though they rhyme nonsense
They rhyme to a degree

But most never get paid
Since their up against the wall
That's why so many poets don’t make it
Because they can’t rise tall

Yet silly little rhymes
Is what I like to do
So go knock yourself out
Go on read one or two

by Dr Geebers