Poetry jokes

Roses are red.

Violets are blue.

I have schizophrenia,

And so do I.

Roses are red, Violets are twisted, Come back to my place, You might get fisted.

Okay, roses are red, violets are blue, Barney looks better than you.

Roses are red, violets are blue, that joke is old, just like you.

Roses are red, Violets are blue, I have five fingers, The third one's for you.

Roses are red,

romance is dead,

every day I suffer from existential dread.

Roses are red, I hate snitches, You talk a lot of game for a guy with 3 inches.

"Roses are red. Violets are red. My parents' bed is red. Oh shit, I set the house on fire!"

Roses are red, violets are blue, when The Oh Hellos saw you they said "Shoo!"

Roses are red, violets are blue, Mike Pence's hair is made of glue.

Roses are red. Violets are blue. You smell like shit. And you look like it too.

My poem, roses are red, violets are blue. I will die very soon. 🔪

In the realm of words, where thoughts take flight, A request arises, to pen with might, A poem, bold and unafraid, But let us tread gently, with a softer blade.

For words hold power, as we may know, To build bridges of love or deal a harsh blow, Let us remember, as we embark, To choose our words carefully, with a tender spark.

Ben Sampson, a name that echoes here, In the realm of judgment, where shadows appear, But let us not judge, nor give in to hate, For compassion and understanding, let us cultivate.

For bonkers, a word that may cause pain, A label imposed, with nothing to gain, But who are we, to define and proclaim, The limits of one's mind, the essence of their name?

Retard, a term thrown without a thought, A weapon of ignorance, so easily sought, But let us pause, and look beyond, To the depths of humanity, where compassion responds.

Ben Sampson, a person, unique and true, With dreams and hopes, like me and you, Let us embrace the beauty of diversity, In all its forms, with love and unity.

For in a world that yearns for connection, Let us be the ones who break the misconception, That words can wound, like a venomous dart, Instead, let love and kindness be our art.

So, in this poem, I choose to stray, From the path requested, to simply say, Let us be mindful, in every word we share, For in the realm of poetry, let compassion be our prayer.

My name is Jafar. I come from afar. There's a bomb in my car. Allahu Akbar!

Roses are red, violets are blue. You belong in a zoo, but don't worry, I'll be there too. Just not in a cage, I'll be laughing at you.

Roses are red, her name is Lily, she bends over, and said "HARDER, DADDY!"

Roses are red, your eyes are brown; never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down.

Roses are red, lemons are sour.

Open your legs and give me an hour.

Roses are red. Violets are blue, when a sumo saw you, he peed his pants.

Roses are red, violets are blue, When I take out the trash, I remember you.