"Are you trying to kill me?!"
Yes,
because when I swung my arm,
I expected the ball to pelt you.
So hard that your eyes are unsocketed,
dangling by the little shoelaces that keep them in your head,
And for the word "Pathetic" to appear before the title of your autopsy.
No!
The ball just hit that giant bunker,
the shield of your smartass brain.
Had you not been looking at that lady picking up a quarter,
The world would be saved from another stupid question.
Yes,
But I was hoping that you would have screamed longer,
so that I could have grabbed your tongue
and pulled your body Inside Out,
just for the Joy of it.
No!
To kill you,
I'd have aimed at that Jenga tower you call a body,
instead of sinking that Titanic sitting on your neck.
We both know that I could kill you,
since the ratio of you to me
is equivalent to that of Godzilla and the teletubbies.
But I won't kill you.
Only because you're my friend.
JE LEEST
CLUCK NO
PoëzieA collection of both emotional and humorous poems about growing up and other frustrating parts of life that'll sound alright in your head, but just plain stupid out loud. !!!WARNING!!! This is not a compilation of chicken poems.
