All the morbid sad poems
Are like little wicked gnomes
Gnawing at my ankles
Beckoning my downfall
Their little beady eyes
Glare hungrily at me
But who am I to stop them
When I can hardly flee
Maybe I should swing a left
Try a new approach
Kick the buggers in their teeth
And go out on a shopping spree
May 10, 2016
May 10, 2016 at 2:08 PM UTC
All the morbid sad poems
Are like little wicked gnomes
Gnawing at my ankles
Beckoning my downfall
Their little beady eyes
Glare hungrily at me
But who am I to stop them
When I can hardly flee
Maybe I should swing a left
Try a new approach
Kick the buggers in their teeth
And go out on a shopping spree
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