Not all poems have to be deep,
this one is not by any leap.
This is a poem about the mung bean,
known to be small and green by those who’ve seen,
tiny green little things that one could glean.
Now, mung beans are nice things,
and though this poem sings,
its depth just slightly pings,
it hardly even rings,
but, its niceness still clings.
(16/40) Experimental Poetry Form: Grouping