The Whisper of the cradling amusment

Somewhere beyond the cup of tea,

Waiting for me,

Is a wide open pea-pod,

Dreaming of a cod,


Who never had a single wish,

To be part of the petri dish. 

Late at night, 

I dream of spite, 

That I thought I’d banished out of sight,

But beyond the trickling ultra violet light,

My mind has been set,

Can never repay its matriculating debt.

To whom do I owe?

This blow to my heart,

To my minds cycling art.

In which realm did this start?

Which witch cracked a fart?

I’ll never know,

Does not matter which way the ocean doth flow, 

Never mind the rainbow threads we sew into the milky way.

Every single day I awake,

Try to put a stake in the ground,

But afraid to make a single sound of truth.

Hiding in behind the booth of lies,

Echos of the why’s linger in the bottles of spirits,

Drinking away their once remarkable merits.

I once bought two ferrets, 

They round orange pellets,

For lunch and dinner,

My father thought one to be a sinner,

And the other to be a winner.

No room in the middle.

I begged for him to play the silent fiddle,

but instead he spoke to the pine cones, 

tell them a riddle,

that he did,

reminded them to not be such drones.

Perhaps I ought to listen too. 

Before the twilight owl sues me. 


About coloredstatic

@2kedalow Alien, Manipulator of Color and fields of vision, Merperson, Pixie with some giants blood, Neverland Travel Agent.
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