Poem Cuckoo, by Santa von Bigarse

[StSanta]

Been sick and bored, and grounded due to bad weather aside from that.

So, I wrote a poem. In English. And I can't really rhyme in English. That's how bored I was. Suffered so bad from Altitude Deficient Disorder that I wrote a *****ing poem!

Poem is, I gather, just about one of the reasons I do what is necessary to stay sane. And the general uncertainty of a world I fail to understand. Why can't we just get along?  

Here it is, in all its misery:


There's terror and doom
And a struggle for power
There are great threats that loom
And the taste just runs sour!

Survey and arrest
Condemn 'em to starve
Losing life, what a theft
There goes that last carve!

It's all just too much
and it leaves me confused
My point is my crutch
At least die amused!

A wealth of opinions
And one sure reply
It breaks up the union
"We're all gonna fry!"

Planes keep on giving
An infusion of sense
While I keep on living
Dazed high on the fence

We do what we do
While we're still alive
The world's gone cuckoo
So why not skydive?

Go make your own cover
You live and you learn
The sky - the great lover
though she can be stern

Make fate give ya doubles
Let the world hear your roar
Do away with your troubles
And let yourself soar

And the conclusion -
Great life or black death
It is the solution
Lifes very own breath

Now I am tired
And maybe a bit drunk
So no rhyme on this line
And this one is "funk"


Am now gonna step away from the keyboard and remove this Golly-geened mushyness that has assaulted me. Sorry for taking your time . Well, not really, but it sounded good.

[Saintaw]

*Appause!*