Today, I am feeling sad.
So here is a sad poem about
On Monday Horace Hobbs felt sad On Tuesday he felt worse “The world’s a rotten place,” he said, “And everything is cursed.” On Wednesday and on Thursday Horace failed to improve He lay there being miserable And simply would not move. On Friday, filled with ennui, Horace sighed the longest sigh. On Saturday a lonely tear Fell slowly from his eye On Sunday there was not a sound From Horace Hobbs all day And no-one noticed Horace Hobbs Had faded all away