Twas the night before blast off;
And all through the town,
Not a creature was rocking,
And the ones that were, had to “turn it down”.
The boxes of packed CDs awaited,
In the spare bedroom downstairs,
With the hope that many friends,
Would soon be able to share.
The band was all ready,
And armed with new gear.
They practiced their last practice,
As blast-off drew near.
Now getting some well-needed rest,
Just chilling inside his home,
Mike doesn’t have time to
Write a good poem.