I read a poem by Vikram Seth, perhaps you have read it, The Frog and The Nightingale. Fun. That's when I realised how I've never tried my hand at the kiddish kind of poetry. Well, I did and I liked what I wrote.
A Ghost from World War I
There once lived a billy goat
Grazing on the banks of a moat.
The poor thing was a bit cock-eyed
As his tail caught fire once and he nearly died.
Now it was only slightly charred
And his vision occasionally marred.
One day, during his evening chow,
He came across a moaning cow.
Billy asked him "What's up, buddy?
How did you come to be so muddy?"
The cow started on a blood-stained tale,
With bomb-blasts ans gun-shots, Billy went rather pale.
The cow ended saying "It was the World War I"
"But the last was II and then there have been none"
"Well, that is the thing that saddens me most.
You see, I am no more, I am just a ghost."
Cool, right? I smile every time I read it. Okay, I am being called. Gotta dash.