A SILLY POEM

As I am not a poet... this is not a poem. It's just a good excuse to play with words and have fun while doing it!

I tried once... I tried twice, three times,

and four, and five, and even nine,

but not a mere single line

I was able to put in black and white.

Although I did my best, everything was in vain.

No doubt: I’ve finished with a flat brain.

Where did it ended, that old brain of mine?

I run out of words to make a rhyme…

I wish Eliza Doolittle be.

She would find 'rain', 'Spain', 'mainly', 'plain'.

To be honest, my gratitude grows

and I say “Thank you, Mr. Bernard Shaw”.