a shithole in rhyme
when i was a young teenage lass,
i met a man with money and class
but i still lived at home,
so his hands couldn't roam,
or my mum would have drop-kicked his ass.

we thought that, as we wanted fun,
we'd head off for a weekend in the sun
a hotel for 2 nights
with some naughty delights
had us both setting off at a run.

we arrived in paris at seven
thinking that we'd find heaven
the hotel was double-booked,
we were basically fucked
we'd have been better off in devon.

a new hotel had to be found
one that would cost us many a pound
the bedsprings were broke,
he got a violent poke
and had to give me one on the ground.

breakfast was a sorry affair
there was jam on the back of my chair
the croissants were stale
and they tasted of snail*
and the jam then got stuck in my hair

the city itself was just fine
the coffee and pastries divine
but to think of that room
and its bedstead of doom
ruined both his trip and mine

we got back to the hotel at 8
hoping for dinner we weren't too late
but i almost went green
at the sight of the sheen
of the grease all over my plate

but despite our spirits flagging
and our bed that was constantly sagging,
we didn't break down and cry,
we just turned a blind eye
and spent the rest of the weekend shagging.

*foul taste was not snail, but shit didn't rhyme.
( Smash Monkey lowering the tone of the whole internet, Sun 20 Jan 2008, 2:52, 3 replies)

Well done!
There's always room for a bit of poetry in my life.
( girlinthehole, Sun 20 Jan 2008, 16:04, closed)

*applauds*
Full marks for effort and style!
Your post is really worthwhile
Your prize is a click,
*insert joke about dick*
and thank you for making me smile. :)
(posthumous mince is tiptoeing through the tulips, Mon 21 Jan 2008, 2:25, closed)

spacekitten
yay! replies in rhyme!
( Smash Monkey lowering the tone of the whole internet, Mon 21 Jan 2008, 3:24, closed)