From Bach To Bieber

I don’t understand how some fans can rave,
for the pop star they call Justin Bieber.

J.S. Bach himself must roll in his grave
and in disbelief cry, “Ach, du lieber!”

The Illegal (A Parody Poem)

He grasps the bag with crooked hands;

Close to the cash that he demands,

Wrong'd by the lawful world, he stands.

The silent bank alarm now calls;

He watches cops outside the walls,

And like a culprit dolt he falls.

  

The Eagle by Alfred, Lord Tennyson:

He clasps the crag with crooked hands;

Close to the sun in lonely lands,

Ring'd with the azure world, he stands.

The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls;

He watches from his mountain walls,

And like a thunderbolt he falls. 

Advice On Playing The Lottery

Don't wait till you're old and tottery,

With bones as brittle as pottery,

And eyes so weakened and watery.

Play now dammit! Win the lottery!