I think, I think and I think,
Of everything but now of ink,
Why is there no ink in pink?
Damn! These rhymes, have no link.
Of everything but now of ink,
Why is there no ink in pink?
Damn! These rhymes, have no link.
So here, I give it another shot,
To make sense and just rhyme not,
No no no! Again I lost the plot,
My head is where rhymes come to rot!
Now I travel all the way to Khar,
It is known to be the land of Sardars,
By train I go not by my car,
At least this rhyme can be called par.
This post is akin, to moon-walking in an ice rink,
Hence now I stop, before I cause your blood to clot,
I know now as far, I will never be a rhyming star,
See what I did in this last stanza love?
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