I've never been into poetry. Haven't managed to get my head around reading it and never tried to write it either. And, although half of the books in our house are of the sci-fi/fantasy genre (yes, I am married to a dweeb), I have never entered the realms of orcs and futuristic lands.
So, for this week's Sunday Scribblings, I thought I would attempt to write:
A Poem About a Robot-type Person
He came from the planet Twonkatron,
The man with the seven eyes.
His arms were made of spiders,
His head from custard pies.
He landed on earth in 2006
To save us from our problems,
Like climate change and overweight kids,
Binge drinking and McDonalds.
But when he saw the state of things,
The robot couldn't hack it.
He got back on his pink spaceship,
And whizzed back to his planet.