The youngsters traipse and arm in arm
Trying not to be too alarmed
The enter pubs they smell of fear
When they awake they reek of beer

They are young and wont to drink
By day they fill a page with ink
Such a pure unrefined joy
It is to be a girl or boy

They cover the streets as they walk home
(In groups, very seldom alone)
With ***** and ***** and chip wraps
They deserve a jacket with straps.

I lunge along my path my way
Keeling forward day by day
The indolence of my surrounds
Renders my feet to the ground

Laughter like bellow grunt
Skipping is my featured stunt
Following the very clouds
Oftentimes I think aloud

I am the jester that you know
The crank that always steals the show
Pranking, yanking underwear
Descending an imagined stair

You laugh I cry inside I die
Outside I breath and watch it fly
For what is death but just one side
Of two that holds our life inside

Going to ground around around
A pint of flesh for every pound
Will you sing a song with me?
Oh dee doodle deedle dee.

Sandwiches are like sentences
They make great metaphors.

A bag of cookies rolled down the hill
A woman thought of dasing
To grab them
But decided against it
Her arms were full
Onthe crest of the hill a young boy burst
Into tears
Of chocolate chip

I see you out there poking through,
I stepped on your sister with my shoe,
The Spring has called you out of sleep,
Your tender colour I must keep.

Your cousin the flower shyly rears,
A bouncing nose and courful ears.