Foul, hideous, and horrid
Unfit for natural light.
An image, none as grisly
As the man named Simon White.
Once his heart was broken
So he kept the pieces in a box.
Tethered safely to his hip
With tight chains and key-less locks.
His mind was wont to wander
To clouds too high and skies too far.
So to keep himself grounded down to earth,
He kept his brain inside a jar.
His teeth would never smile.
Traded some and sold the others
Each to an unfamiliar home
Now all without their brothers.
Oh, his tongue was such a bore!
So he minced it to a paste.
He boiled, baked, and seasoned it
Yet still it had no taste.
He grew tired of his eyes
Looking down and looking back
So he took a brush with inked tip
And painted them pitch black.
The shrieks and wails of the passerby
He could not stand to hear.
So he melted a *** of candles
And stuffed the wax in each ear.
His face had done no wrong
But with fear it one day might,
He took a knife and chopped its nose!
Less from prudence and more from spite...
Oct 8, 2020
Oct 8, 2020 at 5:06 PM UTC
Foul, hideous, and horrid
Unfit for natural light.
An image, none as grisly
As the man named Simon White.
Once his heart was broken
So he kept the pieces in a box.
Tethered safely to his hip
With tight chains and key-less locks.
His mind was wont to wander
To clouds too high and skies too far.
So to keep himself grounded down to earth,
He kept his brain inside a jar.
His teeth would never smile.
Traded some and sold the others
Each to an unfamiliar home
Now all without their brothers.
Oh, his tongue was such a bore!
So he minced it to a paste.
He boiled, baked, and seasoned it
Yet still it had no taste.
He grew tired of his eyes
Looking down and looking back
So he took a brush with inked tip
And painted them pitch black.
The shrieks and wails of the passerby
He could not stand to hear.
So he melted a *** of candles
And stuffed the wax in each ear.
His face had done no wrong
But with fear it one day might,
He took a knife and chopped its nose!
Less from prudence and more from spite...