Hickory dickory dock
can you hear
the ticking
tocking of the clock
This dented trumpet in my hand
it comes as a shock
I may be the last man standing
when the dust settles
on the chopping block
The pennant of pleasure
hangs limp
like the zipper pull
on the mask of a gimp
The strength of a lion
and yet the best
is a wimp
The man who will fall
second to last
is just a ****
Oh lawdy
I do believe
the fallen few
will adorn my breastplate
I will finally find love
in the rubble
of the ones who eat hate
its not too late
to create
to shove the last piece
of the puzzle
into place
Before
the judges decide
who won the race
I will report the results
in any case
I  must
the herald cannot rest
The end is
for him alone to face.