Somewhat eccentric
Likes the eclectic
Not the bravest of the bunch
There if you need him
Don't have to feed him
He even buys you lunch
Off on a daydream
Makes his wife scream
She is the silent type
Lives on chances
In all his romances
Never needs to fight
The message is clear
He is not really here
Running around in his head
I am writing a song dear
Nothing is wrong dear
It's about the quick and the dead
He could whistle a tune
With the cresent moon
Imagine what would be said
Life can't be sweeter
Ticking no meter
Always looking for cues
That is his lot
Gave what he got
The dim witted tool
Some think him insane
When he tells them plain
He hasn't lost the plot
The message not clear
Some cheered
Some jeered
He must be smoking pot!
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Author:
Valiantstar (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: August 23rd, 2026 09:59
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 13
- Users favorite of this poem: Tristan Robert Lange
Offline)
Comments3
Reminiscent of Lewis Carroll this one is entertaining and enlightening as well. Well done
My friend, I feel personally attacked by this one! 🤣 A wonderfully affectionate portrait of a lovable oddball whose inner world is far busier than anything happening outside it. Great fun, my Valiantstar. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
One man's happiness could be another's horror. Liked this - enjoyed his perspective.
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