This thing which causes interminable fear
It clothes the worst denizens of society around
When autumn comes, it's all over the ground
Many a glorious sunset has been ruined by,
That horrible thing marring the sky,
In the morning it brings horror and woe
It's found everywhere- how the poets hate it so!
It surrounds us in thought and in spite
Even in the harvest moon's light
How to describe it, oh what can we do?
Even to type it and the poem is through!
For nothing rhymes with orange, oh how can it be?
Such a thought brings tears to me.
I just HAD to write this. I just finished watching a Danny Phantom episode where the villain, The "Ghost Writer" had Danny trapped in a poem- and of course, the word orange was brought up. It was hilarious. Being a poet myself, I can't say that I've ever had trouble with orange. As long as you don't stick it on the end of a line, you're usually fine.
