Words of a Man

Once upon a time in wonderland

A man without a tale found need
to hold his tongue with his hand,

Wishing for nothing it was
rather sad

For what he needed and what he didn’t want couldn’t make him glad.

His gaping mouth was full of

Some so chunky and indigestible
they made his speech unheard and absurd,

Together with an empty head that
was a concern

For how did he ever expect to
get his turn if he never learned?

Perhaps his strength was just
that very denial

That gave him an asinine
temperament that made him accept his fate with a smile,

Perhaps with that crooked
reasoning he had perfected a style

That ensured if he ever fell on
his head he would have nothing to lose in his profile.

With a personality like a sieve
he could hardly contain his composure

Leaking moral fibre and with
holes in his soul he severely lacked in reality exposure,

What a Man, what can one say,
what a way to draw a cold shoulder

If this man recognized war he
would probably not be a very loyal soldier.

Marching handsomely in a direction
of his own

Tripping over his own footsteps
he hears melodies whenever he is alone,

An un-coddled geezer who’s
picked many a bone

 Ridiculously young in age, and yet behaving as
insanely old as a toad.

Ó × ß

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