Order Word Odd (Homage to Mark)

Pen in hand,
Sit, not stand,
Look at screen,
Player slammed,

Football match,
Boring patch,
Dodgy ref,
Heads are scratched.

Trying to rhyme,
It's not a crime,
But cliches found
Are, all the time.

A day has passed,
Went quite fast,
Spent it sleeping,
Housemates aghast.

Stuff I see
Written down will be.
A dangerous affliction,
This writing spree.

But unless I'll anon round the bend,
Or the rest of my time in asylum spend,
I think I'll cold turkey my addiction,
I think I'll bring this poem to an end.

(C) Ian Doyle 2004

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