Poem: Stuart littles dad once told me to turn that frown upside down.
Misery has many parents, a lineage of frowns, But Humour though an orphan, can always laugh anyway. As I plunder the depths outside the box, no bounds, only logic To solve the 1% cent club, where wit and wordplay lay.
As Lee Mack crafts his puns, jests resound, Navigating time, another hour done. Here I sit, a week completed, with laughter loud, as loud as the wheels of work turning, grinding out of reach.
If the windmill wears you thin, it wouldn't be a sin to indulge in cake, It may not solve all, but it's worth a taste, A delightful confection, in which joy encased.
In a world where laughter's the antidote, A slice of humour and cake, is sometimes all it takes.