Bad Poetry runs in the family

Jenni, of the sisterly nature and aquatic, posted a poem in response to a post of mine. Because I love bad poetry, I must share it with you. Yes, Jen, it is bad poetry. But that's why I like it.

Here it is:

Little Paul Horner,
Sat in the Corner
Tooting his little French Horn.

Along came Morg's Sousa
And didn't even excuse her
And took up all the space in her room and in the car and everywhere else. That thing is huge. And my poem fell apart.