It’s in a roll,
all wound up tight.
Pull out a piece,
and cut it right.
One side is smooth,
the other tacky.
I know this poem
is kind of wacky.
I had an urge
to write a verse.
Sorry if this
is rather terse.
I couldn’t think
of what to write.
I looked around
within my sight.
A roll of tape –
first thing I see,
helped me resolve
my writing plea.
Don’t think I’m nuts,
I’m only strange –
a little odd,
but not deranged.
And when I make
my next escape,
I’ll have published
my ode to tape.
© January 2010
