Poetry: Happy Poem

Happy Poem

Small city big clout
My beard is falling out
All done has been said
Worry’s the only dread

About face the music
Abrasively soothes it
No lies stand me up
No ledge high enough

The truth I can handle
This or that end candle
Stillness fun velocity
Kills all my atrocity

There’s no time or the place
The rabbit hole run race
Miss Plath’s pain pangs
And caged bird’s fangs

I’m ready to be famous
Call Andy but not Amos
Send my ghostly regards
And posthumous star scars

Color me so damn sappy
I wanted but needed happy
Sold sexy Sisyphus legs
For all the alums it begs



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