Monday, 17 November 2014

Today I woke up and forgot how to smile,
And lost my right arm to my pet crocodile.
My left I retained with a honk and a frown,
Not from me, though, you see, but my friend, sad-faced clown.

His mood, oh so bleak, strikes a chord with my own,
A guise bright and bold on a corpse of bleached bone.
Though he saved me from breaking the fast of Sir Croc,
We both know 'twas fruitless; Death ticks on my clock.
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