the story written in verses that has no rhyme.
It smells like freshly made cookies,
made by you in the morning's light
in which you put a lot of love and
thought just to be praised.
Chocolate chip cookies.
It guides you in between the strangers
that all they do is enjoy the presence and
a snack, but you notice a lady like
brown eyed, simple racoon lost in the
moon who'd say "I hate chocolate".
And everyone would stare. Gasp.
How could you choose that for yourself?
It is written in the fairy tales everyone
likes cookies, chocolate chip cookies
with heated cow milk and a tent
of sprinkles. Mm, I love sprinkles!
Assume. No, you consume.
Consume their truth because this is
learned, this is right.
Oh, poor racoon, brown eyed racoon!
We're sending you back to the moon.
It's not allowed for silly little you
to say such catastrophe, don't be
ridiculous! You have to like chocolate.
YOU ARE READING
Night Thoughts
PoetryBefore we begin... Watch how the little becomes big. Watch as the wind flows his mind and thoughts and how he becomes the one who didn't, couldn't. Watch how the progress goes back and forth and how the stiffness kicked in the first few pages of em...
