"sicker" poems
Oh beautiful for specious lies
where Christless values reign;
for superficial battle cries
above the muted strain:
Diversity, diversity
God hides His face from thee—
and frown he should, while planethood
distracts humanity.
How sad it is when victim groups
monopolize the floor;
enabling the marginals
to agitate for more.
Diversity, diversity,
Your queer agenda rules—
with Balkanizing tendencies
imposed on witless tools.
Degenerate in decadence
the ailing eagle flies;
in spirals of irrelevance
through clouded toxic skies…
Diversity, diversity
the Left defines your terms;
the weakened body politic
grows sicker as it squirms.
Oh Lord we need a miracle
before the patient fails;
celestial intervention please
to purge us of what ails.
Diversity, diversity
We shall not overcome—
Unless the Lord reveal His word
twixt here and Kingdom Come…
Sep 17, 2015
Sep 17, 2015 at 8:41 PM UTC
Numb
to not feel
to not feel, pain
or anything else.
being numb does not mean unable to notice
it does not mean, unable to pretend.
I know numbness.
long ago in a hospital,
it was pumped into my veins
and I learned.
Numbness,
will ease pain.
but now I am stuck
trapped in this place
where I pump myself full of metaphysical numbness
At the point I reside,
the only thing I feel
is physical.
I know the warmth of your hand when you hold mine tightly
I know the softness of her skin
and I know if I am injured.
One day,
one desperate day when I was alone against everything...
I released some of my rusted life from my arm.
and as the warmth dripped away...
I felt it.
a small spark inside
not happiness...
but a tear in my left eye.
My fears, not gone
but released,
the things I guarded so close,
brought to the light.
I remember a day
a long time ago...
in a hospital room I wondered.
which, is better?
To die filled with pain and fast,
or to be pumped full of artificial numbness, and have it last?
Numbness.
no word makes me sicker
not in disgust, but in a pit.
I am terrified of numbness,
and so I ask of anyone who will listen to my dying heart
please
DON'T let me die numb.
Mar 30, 2015
Mar 30, 2015 at 12:12 PM UTC
Let me tell you a story about a busy steet in a busy city in a busy country in a busy world.
Somewhere near the end of this busy street in a busy city in a busy country in a busy world, there was a flowershop.
It was a lovely old place; an elegant building surrounded by beautiful gardens with daisies and daffodils and roses. It had bird baths where the cheery cardinals and bluejays stopped by for an afternoon splash, and even a sprinkler for the young children to run around in while their mommy's and daddy's were picking out pretty flowers.
Now, inside this flowershop, there were rows upon rows of pots filled with any type of plant you could imagine: dragonsnaps, lilies, zinnias, tulips, the whole lot. Baskets of flowers hung from the ceiling, overflowing with bright colours. Every once in a while, petals would rain down and the entire shop would look magical.
Everyday, people of all ages would dash into this flowershop. Men in suits, looking to find the perfect gift for their dates. Ladies in dresses, picking out just a little something to look nice in a vase on their dinner table. And of course, the gardeners, with their overalls and ***** fingers.
So, as I said, busy people on a busy street in a busy city in a busy country in a busy world would dash into this busy flowershop, then dash back out and get on with their busy lives. Always looking for the most ravishing type of flower, the ones that could catch your eye as soon as you entered the shop. Never focusing on anything else.
What no one realized was that there was a small flower placed near the back wall of the shop. It was never moved; always been in the same exact place ever since it arrived at the flowershop years and years ago. The owners had stopped watering it, so the flower was beginning to shrivel up. Most of the petals had fallen off and were now laying in a sad little pile on the ground, and the few that remained had turned the colour of black.
The little flower got sicker and sicker every day, but it never lost hope. Every time the suited man stopped in, or the lady with the dress, or the ***** gardener; the flower would use its last bit of strength to make itself noticed. It stood on its tippy toes, perking up and spreading its wilted petals and frail stem as much as it could.
No one saw.
Then, one day, when the owner was sweeping the floor of the flowershop, he saw something near the back wall. Something broken. Crumpled. Blackened. Ugly. Dead. Something that once was beautiful until it stopped being noticed; stopped being loved.
You see, in a busy flowershop on a busy street in a busy city in a busy country in a busy world, no one's ever going to notice a wallflower until it wilts.
Apr 16, 2013
Apr 16, 2013 at 6:47 PM UTC
Psychic spies from China
Try to steal your mind's elation
And little girls from Sweden
Dreams of silver screen quotation
And if you want these kind of dreams
It's Californication
It's the edge of the world
And all of western civilization
The sun may rise in the East
At least it settles in the final location
It's understood that Hollywood
Sells Californication
Pay your surgeon very well
To break the spell of aging
Celebrity skin is this your chin
Or is that war your waging
First born unicorn
Hard core soft ****
Dream of Californication
Dream of Californication
Marry me girl be my fairy to the world
Be my very own constellation
A teenage bride with a baby inside
Getting high on information
And buy me a star on the boulevard
It's Californication
Space may be the final frontier
But it's made in a Hollywood basement
Cobain can you hear the spheres
Singing songs off station to station
And Alderaan's not far away
It's Californication
Born and raised by those who praise
Control of population everybody's been there and
I don't mean on vacation
First born unicorn
Hard core soft ****
Dream of Californication
Dream of Californication
Destruction leads to a very rough road
But it also breeds creation
And earthquakes are to a girl's guitar
They're just another good vibration
And tidal waves couldn't save the world
From Californication
Pay your surgeon very well
To break the spell of aging
Sicker than the rest
There is no test
But this is what you're craving
First born unicorn
Hard core soft ****
Dream of Californication
Dream of Californication
By Anthony Kiedis / Michael Balzary / John Anthony Frusciante / Chad Smith
Californication lyrics © MoeBeToBlame
Nov 29, 2017
Nov 29, 2017 at 9:38 PM UTC
I'm tired of always being on edge
when it comes to you.
at one time,
for one moment,
someone else took in your mind
and i'm sorry i cant forget it.
im sorry i question you
about everything.
she makes me sick to my stomach
and the thought of you two makes me sicker.
yes you came back
on your hands and knees
and yes i forgave you
and yes i am stupid
but for once i wanted to believe in that unbeatable love
that is stupid
and crazy
with everything else in between
because everyone has that love at some point.
Jan 6, 2015
Jan 6, 2015 at 10:11 PM UTC
Again the time has come for all to gather round the fire,
"That time again", we say, while we assess the money drained,
The looks of disappointment from the ***** with stupid attire,
And truth will leak from drink fuelled mouths, with need to be restrained.
Your mum is singing drunkenly, while flirting with the vicar,
And dad is out the back sneaking a joint with cousin victor,
The dog is ******* aunt Jemima's artificial leg,
And someone just had a turkey fart,the kind that makes you sicker.
The christmas lights have fused again, so grandad's on the roof,
Sheer will power keeps him up there,and of course, martini vermouth,
Grandma's lost her teeth,and someone screams near the eggnog,
They're sent flying across the room and land in the fire on a log,
You feel your patience slipping as the pandamoniem mounts,
With thankless moans of "Oh well, its the ****** thought that counts",
And not forgetting Glenn, invited by your mum, but why?
So you and he can marry, and honeymoon in Hawaii.
With no idea that Glenn is gay, i guess the joke's on her,
I mean, what straight guy wears his y fronts entirely made from fur??
The night draws to a close,as bitter, crying family leave,
And relief is all too short, as there's still new years eve!!!
Dec 20, 2009
Dec 20, 2009 at 7:54 AM UTC
The warm ache of *****
Touches my stomach with soft
Hands and all i can think
Is why
and the tickle in my throat
From nicotine's playful kiss
Makes me sicker than before
Woozy and exhausted
I cry to myself
And wonder why you're far
Gone from me
Loneliness caresses my face
With hot tears
While I panic
And want to die
In the place that doesn't feel like home
Jul 22, 2014
Jul 22, 2014 at 12:19 AM UTC
Through that hole in the roof,
devoid of tar and shingle, I
drip.
From that shower head
that needs just a wrench twist, I
drip,
drip.
That patch on the driveway,
beneath the car, just tuned up, I
drip,
drip,
d r i p.
In the back of a dream,
that stirs us to wake, I
drip,
drip.
When that old dog only
gets older, sicker, I
drip,
drip.
Where nose ends and
cheeks turn into chin, I
drip.
On the counter top a bottle- tipped,
chipped. I can't recall, but I
drip,
drip.
Overflowing and fraught with guilt,
a kettle of doubt, one carelessly spilt, I
drip,
drip,
d r i p.
Jul 7, 2011
Jul 7, 2011 at 1:23 PM UTC
What do you do when you aren't hungry,
But you have to eat?
What do you do when that sustenance,
could mean life or death?
what do you do when you feel sick to your stomach,
But without it you may die?
Food.
Its something I need as a diabetic.
But what are you supposed to do,
When you cant even stomach looking at it?
What are you supposed to do,
When you feel like you may throw up?
Do I sit and wait? Or force myself to eat?
Either one is bad.
Forcing making you sicker,
Or waiting making you weaker.
What to do is the question.
To eat or not to eat?
May 19, 2014
May 19, 2014 at 11:51 AM UTC
I have wearied of grand romances
Of deep sighs and swooning trances
Of doting gentlemen’s advances
And all manner of courtship play
I am tired of love confessions
And of dizzied, dazed professions
And of unrestrained obsessions
I grow sicker day by day
I once dreamed of adoration
Went quite mad for veneration
Laughing, flirting with temptation
The queen in Camelot
The lonely, lovely Guinevere
Dainty-masked with girlish fear
But when King Arthur wasn’t near
Dreaming of Sir Lancelot
These days I want no noble knight
Despite my seeming helpless plight
I wish to set myself aright
And tread upon the ground
Yet here I am, pedestal-high
Too close to the dazzling sky
As my life keeps passing by
And boys keep running round
I’ve let myself grow much too proud
Drew up arrogance from the crowd
Heard the cheering, bright and loud
The queen in Camelot
And though I had my faithful Sir
Still my heart was all astir
With flying fancies, all a blur
For Guinevere and Lancelot
These fantasies have grown too old
I’d rather let my bed grow cold
For I have wearied of being told
“You are mine to keep”
Men have tired me to the core
Left me sad and sick and sore
And have turned into such a chore
And I’d much rather sleep
What blasphemy for a maiden fair
To toss such doting to the air
To turn away without much care
Though queen in Camelot
But I have withered, I have tired
Felt as if my brain’s been mired
And find not Arthur much desired
Nor dashing Lancelot
Is it so bad to want respite
From endless longing, day and night?
This constant charm becomes too trite
With ever staler tone
I only wish to rest a while
Recover from incessant guile
Forget the weight of lovers’ trial
And simply be alone
May 29, 2013
May 29, 2013 at 10:48 PM UTC
I've walked into a tunnel.
Following coats,
Dragging behind in
Abandon
The light is slitted
The shape above is
Too Close to my head.
The sharp,
Undecided angles bother me
And a nervous twitch begins.
I imagine it like a funnel,
Sorting population
To pass through in
Close quarters,
Contact guaranteed.
I sneeze
And cough.
My fever smolders
Making my skin chill,
And the thought of disease
Enters, and crowds with me,
Suffocating me to one side-
But not too close-
Don't touch anything.
Fear grows.
I am already sick
But I could get sicker.
Conspiracy drips over my thoughts,
My fever leaving the
normal functioning funnel
In my mind
To be burned away-
materializing in the city-
Around me.
My thoughts bunch
In clusters
And pass all at once,
Leaving waves of nausea
And claustrophobia
As I continue through the tunnel,
Paranoia worsening my symptoms
By the step.
Sep 30, 2014
Sep 30, 2014 at 7:11 PM UTC
I grow sicker
Day by day
As I realize:
Where I once saw a monster
I now see a man.
("See?
I'm just like you.")
It grows more apparent
Each day I'm by your side
Close enough to see into the soul
I didn't think you had.
("I'm not so bad
After all.")
Don't get me wrong
There's not much there.
While my insides wither
I can see that yours
Are already cold and dead.
Empty.
("Come on, my dear.
Make me feel alive.")
Even when you hurt me
I find myself searching
Seeing right through you.
You break me down
While you're in shambles
Reducing both of us to ruins.
("No!
Don't you dare cry!")
But it's all too clear
In those rare moments
Of misplaced tenderness
That, maybe once
You might have known how to love.
("Hey, angel
Where's your halo?")
Sometimes
In the dead of night
When you're still and serene
I try holding you
Lightly tracing all the lines of your face
Wondering who made you this way.
("Shhh...")
Sometimes
I even wonder
If, because of the way things are going now
I might turn out like you one day.
("Don't look so scared.
You know you're okay.")
So I listen to you breathe
And I watch you dream
And sometimes I swear I hear a sob
And my insides cave in when I realize it's not mine.
("Oh, angel...")
I just wish someone loved you
Before you met me
So that maybe --
Just maybe --
We could both be alright
Maybe even meet
Under much better circumstances.
("Shhh...
Angel...")
And, even when you destroy me
I wish that
Somehow
I could love you.
("Please
Don't cry.")
It makes me sicker
Day by day
That I fall back into the arms
Time and time again
Of a monster
Who was once
A man.
("You know you're safe with me
Right?")
Sep 5, 2018
Sep 5, 2018 at 11:35 PM UTC
443
I tie my Hat—I crease my Shawl—
Life’s little duties do—precisely—
As the very least
Were infinite—to me—
I put new Blossoms in the Glass—
And throw the old—away—
I push a petal from my gown
That anchored there—I weigh
The time ’twill be till six o’clock
I have so much to do—
And yet—Existence—some way back—
Stopped—struck—my tickling—through—
We cannot put Ourself away
As a completed Man
Or Woman—When the Errand’s done
We came to Flesh—upon—
There may be—Miles on Miles of Nought—
Of Action—sicker far—
To simulate—is stinging work—
To cover what we are
From Science—and from Surgery—
Too Telescopic Eyes
To bear on us unshaded—
For their—sake—not for Ours—
’Twould start them—
We—could tremble—
But since we got a Bomb—
And held it in our *****
Nay—Hold it—it is calm—
Therefore—we do life’s labor—
Though life’s Reward—be done—
With scrupulous exactness—
To hold our Senses—on—
3k
a malignant cancer spreads
in prime agricultural land
the Santos Company
gas wells ever expand
the waterways and aquifers
sullied with material not healthy
the corporate entity
aspiring to be more wealthy
campaigners outside fences
at drilling locations
wanting to stop the company's
sick infiltration
the fight to preserve the family farm
has been unheeded
company profitability
must be well seeded
a state government not listening
to scientist's info
seemingly it is more interested
in the gas field's revenue flow
as time goes by the waterways
and land will become sicker
all in the name of the Santos brands
noxious sticker
Oct 4, 2014
Oct 4, 2014 at 8:15 AM UTC
I ordered a wheelchair for my mother
The rest of the family was filled with horror
As it might make her feel sicker and look much older
She's weak, no surprise at ninety-four
She can walk maybe fifty yards but no more
She was a ballerina and raised kids no less than four
Cancelled the order but it was too late
When it arrived I rolled her through the gate
Really enjoyed ourselves, luckily she's of little weight
Arriving at the park, she was delighted
Seeing the flowers the ducks, she got excited
She held my hand and we were pleased to be united.
Aug 31, 2021
Aug 31, 2021 at 5:29 AM UTC
I’m sure it has happened
To many other people before.
There comes a moment
A feeling one cannot ignore.
A want, a drive, an impulse
To have, to hold, to own
Something, someone or
A moment that is yours alone.
At a party, a face appeared
And our two eyes connected.
It seemed we were talking;
A dialogue was being erected.
A relationship of mere moments,
It seemed powerfully right.
And at just that one moment
Nothing could be more right.
We left the party immediately
And went to my place to see
If followers through with feeling
What just the right thing to be.
It was all a wonderful adventure.
I am sure we had no kind of fear.
It was an accident of timing,
One I would suffer for years.
Twice more and we were broken,
Never to be together again.
No thoughts about if ever
Not a question about when.
And after the last evening
I knew things had moved on.
When I looked into my wallet.
All of my money was gone.
All because of impatience
And not wanting to be alone
I let myself fall into a kind of
Rock and roll Twilight Zone.
Why didn’t I ask more questions?
Because in that single moment
I wanted a fantasy romance.
Nothing was more important.
It was months later I discovered
In a routine visit to my doctor
That I had contracted a disease
That would ruin my life forever.
They didn’t know what to call it
In those days before the name.
Those were the days before AIDS
And it’s horrific kind of sick fame.
And they had no way to treat it
So, most of us just quickly died.
We had no ability to resist it.
We had no resistance inside.
We lost all our friends and lovers
Because for one single moment
That one evening with a stranger,
Nothing was more important.
I fell into a frenzy of not caring,
Drugs and drink and debauchery.
I felt I had lost all hope in life
And lost all my chance at dignity.
Of course that made me sicker
My resistance went down further.
I no longer wanted to live like that
I was sick of my life altogether.
I am writing this to you, today
So you can share it with others.
Tell people that getting laid
Is not the same as a lover.
Point to me and advise them
We may have just one moment
For valuing ourselves as a person
Nothing must be more important.
(This is dedicated to many of my friends over the decades that suffered from *** and AIDS related issues.)
Oct 30, 2015
Oct 30, 2015 at 5:27 AM UTC
Dear friends its been a while!
I can't believe
It took so long to reconcile.
So often it feels like
I'm only giving off a profile.
so I must say
I’ve missed your smile.
I've been thinking lately
(And you know how
My thoughts can be deadly)
That maybe I
Am lost again already.
I’ll swallow my pride this time
And ask for help before I go crazy.
I can't feel my emotions.
Every other obstacle feels like
a toss into the deepest of oceans.
And no matter what I do
Its like I’m only going through the motions.
It's so hard to be around people
Without feeling like my mind and body are prisons
Help me, please
I don't want to be alone anymore but
this is the only place I feel at ease.
I feel sicker than before now,
How can I cure my self of this disease?
All my efforts drain me.
Why would my heart have a lock without keys?
I am so sorry
I'm working through some
of this explosive self-fury.
I hope you can forgive me
and save yourself some worry
because I know to ask now and besides:
it's not as bad as it could be.
Oct 25, 2018
Oct 25, 2018 at 9:45 PM UTC
It's not me, it's you
these words they haunt beds
but I can sleep at night.
Rather be cold, covered, and neglected
than hot, naked, and rejected.
Yeah you're winning cause you have feelings
but nothing is ever what it seems.
Crying and purging at the thought of my body
but I won't let you see me because I'm shaking.
You're so far away from my tree that I appear
to be still but my leaves are trembling.
I never asked for thunder and rain,
you were supposed to bury the pain.
Instead I watched as you endlessly shoveled to find
the root, so the the thorn in your heart can be extracted.
But I won't let you get soil deep
forever bound
chained and held in my hand
curled up defeated
a snail in a shell.
Sicker everyday.... all because I didn't wish you well.
Shame
fingers point
and they blame
you.
Libra weigh the scales
I'm tired of the lower hand
I want you so bad it's stupid
It's stupid that I want bad news
Yearning centuries now for something new.
I want you so bad it's stupid
it's stupid that I want you so bad
so bad, my want is bad,
but I'm stupid for you.
The Victim and The Villain
interchanging between the two
chemistry ignited in red
but now we're entering the blues
The positions they change as frequent
as lies that transform into truth.
The Victtim and The Villain
they live inside of us;
and they live inside of you.
May 24, 2013
May 24, 2013 at 12:42 PM UTC
You rang me on New Years,
Crying,
Just as I had managed to forget,
And told me we'd get through this together.
And I wept more for your case
Than I ever did for mine
As they told me
"Common things are common"
Though you insisted
That your cysts were sinister.
Even if you really were
Under your 'mother's maiden name',
You never told me
That you were alright,
When I had more than enough
Pills, injections and appointments
To worry about
Than asking my father to look for you
When neither your name nor conscience,
Were anywhere to be seen.
I've always had my doubts about places of fire and brimstone
But never wished it on anyone, nevertheless,
And nor do I now.
But I do believe
In places of eternal sleeplessness, nausea and screaming children on long haul flights,
And that there is an seat reserved for you,
With no legroom.
When I broke down, as the bus did,
On our way to maths,
I was thankful for you.
As you should be of me,
That I haven't told anyone
You lied to an ill young girl
For attention.
And still I think,
You're sicker than I ever was.
Jun 30, 2011
Jun 30, 2011 at 6:21 PM UTC
what kind of person fantasizes about being sicker than they already are?
man, it's time I realize life is worth it and I've made it this far
when I can't forget, can't forgive, and get stuck
tires spinning, thoughts running, strength thinning
out of control
what role does my faith play in feeling whole?
I wish I could erase this hole eating away inside
but then I might just feel more empty
I try to cut through the feelings by cutting through the skin that covers this lifeless body
the razor shreds my flesh instead of fleshing out all of the chaos inside this mess of a mind
Oct 23, 2023
Oct 23, 2023 at 8:08 AM UTC
Mommy? My throat hurts
You tell me it's the flu.
Mommy? My nose itches
You tell me it's the flu.
Mommy, I keep coughing and
I don't know what to do.
Mommy? You look a little sleepy
But you slept all afternoon.
Mommy? You're really grumpy
But you slept all afternoon.
Mommy, you keep hitting me and
I don't know what to do.
Mommy? It smells bad in here
And I can't help but choke.
Mommy? It's so hard to breathe
And I can't help but choke.
Mommy, we're getting sicker and
I don't know what to do.
Mommy? Your tongue is turning black
Please make it stop.
Mommy? Your hair is falling out
Please make it stop.
Mommy I'm watching you decay and
I don't know what to do.
Mommy? My cough won't go away
But I don't have the flu
Mommy? My throat still hurts
But I don't have the flu.
Mommy I keep getting sick and
I don't know what to do.
Mommy? Grandma called,
She asked to speak to you.
Mommy? Auntie called
She asked to speak to you.
Mommy, they keep calling, crying, and
I don't know what to do.
Mommy? I'm in the park today
and I'm missing you.
Mommy? I hear laughter
and I'm missing you.
Mommy we don't get to play,
and I don't know what to do.
Mommy? Why'd you have to go
cause I'm still missing you.
Mommy? I try to be okay
But I'm still missing you.
Mommy they all have their moms
and I don't know what to do.
Mommy had a habit
It always smelled real bad.
The doctors couldn’t help her,
And it made me really sad.
Nov 12, 2012
Nov 12, 2012 at 10:54 PM UTC
mantra and insolence hand in hand
intercepting the idea of the baby boy crush applying to me like kinetic sand
barbie dolls at the marriott
saccharine jewels in the sewers rot
with
the old girlie i had a tap on
lipstick peeling away like a deteriorated vinyl record's song
let the angels waver, barter, become sicker
and quote 'say anything' as if it's a 90s sticker
have vomit-stained carpet posted
and
uploaded to the black market webs
caption it ****** me"
and let the media do the rest
tired of these wicked games
isaac position me with rachel some day
at the mosque, eve and ann is scratched out into the old testament books
pack the bags
let's go
the hilton's booked
etch and sketch situated on the train tracks
along with two birds together
feet lazily dangling
bargaining with god to finish them over
****** denial, toothbrush stuffed in the dog's mouth
ran down the line, kissing him to the south
lost the baby girl along the way
let the dirt do the talking
gargled some milk and jack daniels honey
in large arms, lucid dreaming never seemed so calming
Sep 25, 2018
Sep 25, 2018 at 7:54 PM UTC
I've come to know the
hospital well
the stale smells
the nurses names and stories
the hand sanitizer
the countless quiet
nervous
elevator rides
stuff like that
I could even write a full review
of the cafeteria food
should this hospital
have it's own newspaper.
There's been too many sad days
but I find myself laughing
as she shows off her blonde
extravagant wig
The doctors and nurses
Fall in love with her
her energy
her aura
As most people do
They laugh with her
And cry with her
And hope with her
People come in
They say
things will be fine
things will get better
My mom grows weary
She's heard this since stage two
They say
keep up the fight
But seen as a fight
Her getting sicker only implies
she is not fighting hard enough
that she is losing
nothing can **** hope quicker
but she shrugs it off
She doesn't need some
greeting card or nylon balloons
or some
half-assed healer
or some gurus blowing
smoke from burning sage
She needs authenticity
connection
meaning
She needs to be told things are awful
And probably won't get better
She needs complete vulnerability
on both ends
She needs real
Which is hard to find
in a lot of places
and faces
and words
an hour with her though
she would get it out of you
the 'you' that you didn't even know
she touched lives beyond
whatever I ever imagined capable
There are many ways
I wish to be like her
but most
is to be able to smile
as real
and transparent
as she did
when I am about to die.
Jan 1, 2014
Jan 1, 2014 at 2:25 PM UTC
It's a little funny when you drink cough syrup, despite not having a cold.
Popping a few pills is a bit strange when you have no nerve pain.
And it's a tad ironic, taking fever reducers when you don't have the flu.
Because in reality
you're so much sicker than you thought
Aug 24, 2015
Aug 24, 2015 at 5:40 PM UTC
There are voices I hear
that are unusually clear, it's quite an awful racket
What do you mean? I hear nothing
You don't? I hear something
Me? I can hear only quacking
They argue and bicker
I swear I get sicker each and every day
I think you're crazy, my son
He's fine, Obi Wan
Guys? These ducks are coming our way
The least I can say
is that on rather slow days, I listen to combat the dullness
At least someone's not bored
I'm a Sith Lord!
Oh crap! one those ducks has a cutlass!!
It could be worse I suppose
but they always impose on the moments of silence I cherish
Man, he wasn't joking!
Those ducks are force choking!
If we don't leave, we're all going to perish!
One day I know
They'll finally go, and my sanity I will gain back
Quack quack quack quack
Quack quack quack quack quack
Quack quack quack quack quack quack quack!
sigh
Jan 18, 2012
Jan 18, 2012 at 6:44 PM UTC