Rhyme Disease

 
I wish that I could clear my head
from rhyming everything that’s said.
My wife says, “honey, time to eat.”
and I’ll say, “Hope it’s something sweet.”

 
When a checker at the checkout stand,
just couldn’t get my bread to scan ,
she said, “I guess it must be free”,
I said, “I’ll get more… wait for me.”

 
This afternoon, while at work
my boss came in, and with a smirk,
said, “you’re behind, work late tonight,
I smiled at him and said.” Yeah right…”

 
So now I’m looking for a job.
At least I’m free from that big slob.
You’d think my answer was a crime,
when all I did was make a rhyme.

 
My brain sprouts rhymes in my bed.
I just can’t get them from my head.
Rhymes are even in my dreams.
I’m going crazy, or so it seems.

 
Here I Go… I’m ‘gonna be tough.
Enough of this, I say… “Enough!”
The cure begins with this last line.
What a relief, it doesn’t ….. (Oh crap!..)
ryhme..