My mind is a pomegranate:
Juicy, seedy,
And it leaves stains on whatever it touches.
You don’t know how it opens
And it takes hours to process
And doesn’t fill you up.
Luckily my heart is some type of meat,
Probably liver.
Mmmm… Liver.
My mind is a pomegranate:
Juicy, seedy,
And it leaves stains on whatever it touches.
You don’t know how it opens
And it takes hours to process
And doesn’t fill you up.
Luckily my heart is some type of meat,
Probably liver.
Mmmm… Liver.
Treasure thy body
Above thy mind.
Brains can go shoddy,
But not dat behind.
Filed under Poems
There’s a little voice inside
That will tell you to run and hide,
Endeavor to crush you
With the weight of all your dreams.
But you have an even smaller voice
That offers you a better choice:
To accept that crushing weight
Is lighter than it seems.
And a little deeper still
Is the diminutive voice of will
That cheers you on
To the land of milk and honey
And one final voice so small
You can’t hear it at all,
But it whispers
“Fart jokes are still funny.”
Filed under Poems