The poets dwell
within their Hell
on a Sabbath day
witching hour
Their minds a wreck
Their hands
of tech
They grind their teeth
in angst
Silence staid
The beds unmade
Searching for who
knows what
Snaps a pencil
It's indefensible
He can't go back
to bed
Quasimodo?
Was he noble ?
Played center for
Notre Dame
Came draft day
He was cast away
Which foot was it
you ask ?
Well the venom's drip
that sank a ship
Manned by mushroom
brained morons
Will be the first
to experience the worst
That trickles down
that piggies leg
"We all live in a yellow submarine"
It's just another "Day in the life"
After all happiness is a
warm warm gun
May 11, 2025
May 11, 2025 at 3:31 AM UTC
The poets dwell
within their Hell
on a Sabbath day
witching hour
Their minds a wreck
Their hands
of tech
They grind their teeth
in angst
Silence staid
The beds unmade
Searching for who
knows what
Snaps a pencil
It's indefensible
He can't go back
to bed
Quasimodo?
Was he noble ?
Played center for
Notre Dame
Came draft day
He was cast away
Which foot was it
you ask ?
Well the venom's drip
that sank a ship
Manned by mushroom
brained morons
Will be the first
to experience the worst
That trickles down
that piggies leg
"We all live in a yellow submarine"
It's just another "Day in the life"
After all happiness is a
warm warm gun
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