(Poem 300 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

Skeleton birthday parties
are quite a hoot
They eat licorice and smarties
and drink out of a boot.

They love exploding candles,
streamers, and balloons;
they leave the place in shambles
after watching cartoons.

They sing Happy Birthday
about a million times,
and afterward they may
commit some minor crimes.

Forget peace and quiet
if you ever get invited.
It really is a riot—
just try not to get indicted.

@Home Studio – 300^th poem of the year

Runner ups for the Skeletons photos to accompany my poem: