In the mood
Rational sentiments of staying alive
call for more than just another day
with flying fax machines in hyper drive
that wait for me to come out and play.
I am the world that I see, no more,
the rest is nothing but fiction and lore.
Thus I mooned the moon
for no particular reason at all
and shortly there was another soon
that listened to my anxious call.
Hideous hideouts called my name,
tried to put my day to shame.
Poetry by Bob
Read 516 times
Written on 2009-01-09 at 19:17
Tags Moon  Alive  Lore
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