The lawnmower was broken, as I said.
After some efforts token, I just gave it up as dead.
So the grass grew. The rain fell, often and hard.
This is Tennessee after all, pard.
And this you could see, as I in my words of woe do shew.
So, the Lawnmower was fixed, but I was still atwixt for now green was high,
and it was time for the sigh.
Oh, the swingblade, so-called the sigh in sounds,
for sigh does the man who faces grass mounds to the sky.
You dreadful thing
You make my arms sting
My back ache
If only the lawnmower hadn't brake
And now I stop for my reader's sake