I have eaten all your brothers;
you're the only one that's left.
The last soldier for the slaughter.
Your last moments before death.

I'm a man made in God's image,
You're a nut born in a field.
And the trick to your undoing
is the ***** inside your shield.

So my hand descends from heaven
and it lifts you to the sky.
Then I pull but you hold steady,
you stand firm although I pry.

You have won oh mighty peanut.
'Gainst this beast survival's bleak.
Not from strength did you prevail
But by having nothing weak.

You don't have time to read this
I'm not even taking the time to write it
I've let it fall this way consciously haphazardly
no, more like half-consciously self-titillating-ly
see if you can say that last word a few times
without smiling because I sure can't

Both our hearts are caught in between
Envy coating us pistachio-green
A varnish not shiny but smooth
Reflecting light the tiniest move
Eye-catching beauty to who dares look
A white pebble sparkling in a slow-paced brook
Containing jealous winds with restraints of ink
Emotions grow faster than you think
What starts as cloudy weather goes from small to bad
Soon a storm of feelings leaves you powerless and sad