He's just annoying; screaming like that.
And sprawling on the couch so I can't sit.
All for the purpose of entertainment,
he's a big forty-seven with a small eight wit.
As he counted the years, he got stupider.
He yearns for every new opportunity;
scanning for pranks and plots to shape.
He's just your average, overage, loony.
But he's got that face; the one you just like.
The one that looks funny all of the time.
He knows your weakness, he'll use it well,
he'll take what's yours and proclaim it's, "Mine!".
A/N--------------------------------------------------------
I'm just jealous of people who manage to have this kind of fun in their older ages. I would love to be like that, but I picture myself as a stressed out, quite man growing up for some reason. Even though I mess a lot still, I can't imagine myself staying that way. Here's hoping haha
YOU ARE READING
Congestion
Poetry#24 in meaningful May 2019 - This book is a collection of some of my best works of poetry, as said by others who have read them on separate sites. I have written over 400 poems, these are some of the good ones. I try to make my poetry meaningful for...
