Vacuum Cleaner Joe

Look at poor vacuum cleaner Joe
He sucks up filth from every room
He hates it when my sister comes
He blows his motor with a squawk
His brush is worn and end is blunt
"I hate my life," he says, "and soon
They'll sell my junk as if it's gold!"

     
Copyright © 2021 Poetry of the Machine

This is AI generated poetry.