I am fighting with my human condition,
another rendition of my tired body, my eyes,
closing slowly, dreaming at some cheese pies.
Pier one, you can see my yacht (the c is silent)
The sea is silent indeed, Euclid, Pytaghoras,
Agoras in Greece, mice, a bit of spice,
Where is my mind wandering so late in the night,
My knight is attacking your queen, a has-been,
Sir Lance-a-lot, fired on the spot, for being
violent with the staff, this kind of stuff, sightseeing,
coming into being, a cosmic god from Nijni Novgorod,
you little sod, this mode, methode and madness,
Fes, Meknes, I always lover Morroco,
my WW Scirrocco, my allocation was spent
all of it, one dessert, do not take the name of my God
in desert, desertors riding raptors, my captors
only kept my ideas, the ones related to the diamond
in the rough, no staff, only bows and arrows,
my magic is so basic is getting close to classic,
classical music, Physics, aerodynamics, fix
the pipe, get the snipe, save the cheerleader,
save the world, I was told, long time ago,
and so...
The proposition was in transition,
no preposition, no adjectives, no French mimes,
hidden mines, limes, no lemons,
no Jerichon walls, just some weekend stalls,
stalling my happiness long enough
to forget about my cough, where is that staff?
Stuff i never liked to talk about, clout
cloud nine, wine, strong spine,
I am fine!