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A little bit of fun...The rhyming thread.

In this thread you can post what you like, but take the time
To make everything, at some point rhyme.

There's no need to keep it clean,
But try not to be too obscene.

There's no rhyming scheme rule
We're not all poets, that would be cruel.

Chat about the weather, football or sports
Or just have a rant and tell us your thoughts.

It can be complete crap or from the heart
Give it a go, I will make a start.



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    The darts was great last night,
    Best final I've seen in years.
    Seeing Thornton win like that
    It moved me to tears.
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    edited October 2015
    It's time to put this thread to bed.
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    I wrote an Epic Poem a year ago. May not be to everyone's taste - see La Chanson de Roland 2014 ....
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    edited October 2015
    The trouble comes, when rhyming with reading,
    Should I use weeding
    Or should I use bedding?

    A capital letter, the rhyme would ease
    Pleasing too, the CL grammar police.
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    Grammar police have no jurisdiction here.
    Because of poetic license there's nothing to fear.
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    I'm sure GHF what you refer to was sublime.
    But I'm afraid your post above, it does not rhyme.

    Indeed, a grievous oversight
    Must be more careful what I write

    So once again, just one more time
    I'll mention my forgotten rhyme

    Its title I've already said
    And now I'm going back to bed .....
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    There was a young girl called Sadie
    Who some thought was quite a lady
    But little did they know
    that she couldn't even sew
    and is just a glorified charlady
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    There was a young man called Bart
    who let out an enormous fart
    the smell was so bad
    everyone was sad
    So they took him away on a cart
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    Sink.....before I'm driven to drink.
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    Blast thou lazy poets who confine rhymes to just one line

    It's unneat, discrete and petit and shows intelligence of a swine
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    It's such an awful scene
    Duchatelet and Katrien
    Their Comms are inept
    But we have to accept
    So don't groan at the owner, old bean

    Sparrows Lane's to receive costly scrub
    As we aim for a Category 1 hub
    It's the ultimate dream
    For producing the cream
    And then flogging them off, that's the rub

    And whilst floundering online for your tickets
    A black hole swallows prized season tickets
    As an inconvenienced group on
    The promise of a coupon
    Delays in their grub threatens rickets

    As we aimlessly wander for programmes
    And rue sofas and cheerleaders and flim flam
    Jumping Jack Flash
    Squats and leaps with panache
    And ponders his injury logjam

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    With this thread I wish you luck. Me I don't give a ( insert word)
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    To the shithouse poet when he dies we will erect for him a monument to commemorate his wisdom and his wit it will be a statue made of solid shit.
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    Cutting the grass
    Is a pain in the arse.
    To avoid using a rake
    I might buy fake.
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    Guy Luzon,
    Said "move on"
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    No, that wasn't Guy
    It was of course Sir Chris
    I can't do poetry
    Fuck this
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    Oh my beloved CAFC
    Without you where would I be

    Not at The Den that's for sure
    Or Selhurst with all that ultra furore

    Nor Arsenal Spurs or Chelsea
    Glory hunting is not for me

    Not the 'ammers daggers or Os with their East End lingo.
    Rather spend Saturday afternoon with me mum at bingo

    Nor Fulham Brentford or QPR
    To watch shit football West London's too far

    So I'm thankful for my Charlton
    We belong together
    And no matter what happens I'll support them forever
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    No, that wasn't Guy
    It was of course Sir Chris
    I can't do poetry
    Fuck this

    Oh yes you can you silly man
    bottom line should read
    so fuck all to this.
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    That Belgian bloke and puppet bird have really got to go
    How we raise the 30 mill, I really do not know.
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    Roses are red
    Violets are blue
    Poor hub is down
    You're mums Facebook will do
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    Roses are red
    Violets are blue
    Porn hub is down
    You're mums Facebook will do

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    This was written for addicksdownunder a while back in L1 when we were struggling:

    Our Father who art in heaven
    Please save our motley crew
    We don't need to win every match by seven
    A single goal will do

    Hallowed be thy name
    Help us into the Premiership to play the beautiful game
    And when we're up and have won the Cup
    We'd like the same again (please)

    Lead us not into relegation
    Keep us out of the bottom three
    From Bondi Beach to Bexleyheath
    We'll be very grateful to thee

    Give us this day our daily bread
    Crumbs of inspiration
    Forgive us our sins with plenty of wins
    And goals that will rock the nation

    Return to us our passion
    And our Addicks pride
    And when in triumph we parade
    You can come on for the ride

    We'd give anything for a few more points
    To keep our heads above water
    The house, the yacht, you can have the lot
    And my wife and daughter

    Remind our players of glory days
    When they said that men were men
    With grunt up front and steel in midfield
    For ever and ever, amen

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    edited October 2015
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    edited October 2015
    You said nothing rhymes with orange,
    but my partner's surname is Gorringe?

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    I began to read your poems on here,
    I wondered what to do,
    You are obviously lovely people,
    But for poetry you haven't a clue !
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    edited October 2015
    What you say may well be true,
    But to be fair, neither do you.
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    Little Bow Peep had a sheep that she kept in her back yard. When she would pull down her panties, and show him her fanny, his little wooly ding dong would get hard.
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Roland Out Forever!