In my heart I stay hopin, for some cheese like a token

Chuck E. Cheese, cheese blowin, in the wind, and I’m gropin

For the words, that I can bird, so I can be outspoken

MVP in this life, nothing but net stroking

But I feel like I’ve fallen, no net at the bottom

Now I have discovered why they call it rock bottom

Ouch.  Off the couch.  To the floor.  Carpet burn.

Standing up.  Everyday.  What I feel?  Hell burn.

Now I’m talkin in circles, talkin nonsense like squircles

That’s a circular square – Did I do that?  Steve Urkel!

I don’t ride black and yellow, nor play the 2 and purple

What I do?  You know what I did.  Kevin Hart’s hysterical!

I type mice, and click letters.  Kiss hurts to make it feel better

I think dark, and write light.  I bring the clouds in any weather

Feathers.  They tickle a little, and get everywhere like spittle

Chicken Little.  Run for your lives.  Down come the skies.






~The Wordsmith


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