Bewdley Festival

I'm too tired to think of a poem
I've been out to Bewdley today
For the annual festival frolics
We go every year, by the way


We meet up at our local bus stop
Raise a cheer when our transport arrives
we get very excited at nothing
It's because we all lead such sad lives


But that's the idea you see folks
we pick the most boring event
Each year we declare that we won't go again
And always regret that we went!


But really it gives us great pleasure
and livens up every October
For after the talk we go to the pub
On the bus home we're never quite sober


Drink a toast to the festival planners
Who never have failed us yet
Next year when we look at the programme
We'll discuss, "are we going?" - You bet!