A Double-Barreled Limerick

 

 A Double-Barreled Limerick.

 

 

There was once a young poet named Foote

Who wrote poems that never would soote

Who at the door of each daily would roote

Till he was weary of heart and of foote,

     But the editors bad

     All appeared to be mad

     And though it was sad

     Would take nothing he had,

So now he’s on the tramps roote

And is doing his Footing afoote.

 

Sept. 24, ’10.