This will not do. Instead of 365 rhymes, I have to do 366 for all of you. That one whole extra one will make me go bust. I think my rhyming skills will rust.....hmmm.....or maybe not. As the facts are I can do a whole lot. But how dare those Ancient Egyptians figure this out and make me do another rhyme shout. This just throws off my whole groove. What were they trying to prove? Then the damn Romans came along and instead of saying they were wrong, made it officially a day. Oh the dismay!
With their ancient tools,
Who believes these fools?
5 hours, 48 minutes and 46 seconds off.
Bah who is going to scoff?
That still doesn't equal 24,
23:22:24 in case you were wondering at your shore.
So 37:36 is your extra time,
Don't you like math and rhyme?
So in 60 years you'll gain,
An extra 9 hours and 25 minutes at your lane.
Now you can't say you never have time,
For you have 9:25, isn't that sublime?
Oh but wait! There are more rules,
Created by more fools.
No year diviisble by 100 counts,
In the leap year amounts.
Except those divisible by 400,
Has your brain been plundered?
So if you were lucky,
And are still plucky.
At a ripe old age of 112 or so,
You gained a whole other day at your show.
Plus you gain almost double the 9:25,
Meaning a good day and a half, at least, at your hive.
What will you do with all that time?
Since it doesn't count, kill a mime.
It will make the world a better place,
May even get rid of some wrinkles on your face.
Then you can tell one and all,
As you give your cat call.
For if you are a she,
This one whole day you can chase a he.
Is that any different than the others?
Maybe for our mothers.
As the scaries and crazies won't go away,
No matter the day.
Maybe they will leap,
And fall into a hole quite deep.
Then for 365 days they will go poof,
Thanks to the leap year goof.
That would be grand,
No more crazies in rhyme time land.
I could give Flappy a push,
Then she's shush.
Strat! This has gone all to hell,
Stupid leap year had to ring its bell.
But I suppose it a good thing the Mayans had no say,
Or ever four years it would be doomsday.
See the stupid leap year can't stop me. I will keep on going at my sea. Even if I have to do 366 thanks to those Egyptian hicks. Now now don't get your panties in a bunch, my little insults pack no punch. For they are all long past dead to ever see what I said. Unless the aliens help, then they may yelp. But I'll give those probing guys some sass and never let them catch my little rhyming ass.
Enjoy your winter, smash a printer.