Fezik and I

Fezzik and I
Sometimes my brain breaks down,
And when it does, I have to frown.

You see, it wont think like normal,
It thinks in rhyme, sometimes quite formal.

To get it back in gear once more
Be it formal, silly or folk lore,

I have to write a poem, short or stout
To make my brain work it out!

It doesn't matter if little miss Clare
Rhymes with share, hair, and flare

Or if the floor has a stain
I must say, "that stain, what a pain"

Why is it that my shampoo,
Would do wonders for that whale called Shamoo

Or Max's toast with cheese,
Would be more fun, if balanced on my knees?

These things they don't make any sense
But my brain keeps rhyming away
Rare, dare, flair, pear, share, bear, care
C'mon brain, you don't have to rhyme all day!

I feel like Fezzik, from the princess bride,
A nice guy, caught on the wrong ride

"no more rhymes, I mean it!"
"Anybody want a peanut?"