JUST FOR LAUGHS.
I write this verse for those who may.
Use humour in communiqué.
Witty gems that are so funny.
Cannot be bought for vulgar money.
Give me just one laugh a day.
To keep my sadder thoughts at bay.
I would go that extra mile.
To bring forth a deep-felt smile.
Sometimes it’s easy to be sad.
With all the problems I have had.
But when I read those jokes out loud.
It tends to lift the darkest cloud.
Jokes can lift emotions high.
They make me laugh or sometimes cry.
If they are wicked or filthy.
They tend to make me feel guilty.
I feel I should not laugh at jokes.
That ridicule less able folks.
For I have seen the darker half.
Of these things that make us laugh.
I never seemed to have the mind.
To laugh at things that are unkind.
What some humour does for me.
Is simply raise my empathy.
I am confused to be amused.
With all of my emotions fused.
That which should not make me smile.
Will steal my self-respect a while.
Nonetheless, I giggle too.
At humour aimed at me and you.
Out goes all my good intent.
As it gives way to merriment.
But I can’t seem to help myself.
Humour creeps along with stealth.
Even under saddest cloud.
Suddenly I’ll laugh out loud.
So I pay tribute to the ones.
Who produce the jokes and puns.
They bring me pleasure midst the pain.
A laugh is treasure found again.
B. Withers 2011
I write this verse for those who may.
Use humour in communiqué.
Witty gems that are so funny.
Cannot be bought for vulgar money.
Give me just one laugh a day.
To keep my sadder thoughts at bay.
I would go that extra mile.
To bring forth a deep-felt smile.
Sometimes it’s easy to be sad.
With all the problems I have had.
But when I read those jokes out loud.
It tends to lift the darkest cloud.
Jokes can lift emotions high.
They make me laugh or sometimes cry.
If they are wicked or filthy.
They tend to make me feel guilty.
I feel I should not laugh at jokes.
That ridicule less able folks.
For I have seen the darker half.
Of these things that make us laugh.
I never seemed to have the mind.
To laugh at things that are unkind.
What some humour does for me.
Is simply raise my empathy.
I am confused to be amused.
With all of my emotions fused.
That which should not make me smile.
Will steal my self-respect a while.
Nonetheless, I giggle too.
At humour aimed at me and you.
Out goes all my good intent.
As it gives way to merriment.
But I can’t seem to help myself.
Humour creeps along with stealth.
Even under saddest cloud.
Suddenly I’ll laugh out loud.
So I pay tribute to the ones.
Who produce the jokes and puns.
They bring me pleasure midst the pain.
A laugh is treasure found again.
B. Withers 2011