Sometimes..a switch of normal
Senses...go askew
Body's signs bewitch the mind
Unknowing..you...the true
Take me to the doctor!!
Split...and lickity
Diagnosis.. and prognosis
Coated white..sez he to me
Yer nuttin' but hungover
You smell like cats in heat
Time of mine.. yer wasting.. son
Get out...back on the street
Relieved..be I ..this verdict..
Ordains another day
The father's son sees my become
Grants...another pray
Mean it....
-
Author:
James Perrin (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: March 24th, 2026 08:31
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 3
Offline)
Comments1
Like the jargon feel the beat got the message. Nicely done
Tx...for all your replies...on all my poems
You are most welcome
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.