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.
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?