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Double Cobs
March 11, 2022
There was an Irish cob
Made of a blob
He loved to run
It was really fun
But one day he fell in a puddle
Then there was double
He looked at the other
It made him shudder
“Who are you?”
“I am you.”
That made him winnie
Why it was like his own little mini
They started to run a muck
Then they started to buck
What fun it was to play with double
Why we made so much trouble
We could race the sun
And win a ton
Run we will
Till we can no more
© Rylee G., Nazareth, Pennsylvania
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this was an ink blot poetry