a ditty and a rhyme, to waste some time
my brain is numb,
where is the sun?
i need to eat,
where is the meat?
there is no rest, they say,
for the wicked;
i say bollocks,
there’s my mattress and my blanket.
if i had my way,
i’d sleep all day -
no black on white,
no goddamned effing reading light.
aight, enough’s enough,
this poetry thing is tough.
i must get back to reading,
‘fore the fire of guilt gets burning.
Cat:
- this & that | Time: 11:51 am (UTC+8) No Comments »
