Layin head to face,
We spoonfeed baby food to microwaves.
Catching colds from the blonde bangs,
Jacuzzi anklets & monk beads in teal.
As thought leaves a mark it makes room for walls.
For plain cherry Pop Tarts™ sake,
I beg you,
In the name of the three times removed -  but never named,
For lack of a joke worse than you,
Please,
Get them wounds checked out.