I once had an ugly uncle named Fred. He was as gross as anyone could be. Then he went and shot himself in the head. We buried him under the old oak tree. I was tired of remembering him, So I chopped it down and made some fire wood. I felt sad for the logs as I burned them. I would put them back to life if i could. I sat and wondered about my uncle, About the thoughts he is thinking right now. He liked bands like "Simon and Garfunkle" And he weighed as much as a cow. With Murder in his eyes, Fred shot me in the back. He did not die; he was high on crack.
Reason for writing:
Wanted to write a sonnet. Didnt ever have an uncle fred. And i ryme because it makes the poem sound like it has more flavor. Im not a good poet so i try to make them sound nice. §:¬þ later y'all.
Birth sign: Cancer
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