Sunday, February 4, 2018

no surprise

a tad too late he realized
the size of his left left foot
and just how bad the taste it had
like peat moss mixed with soot

the right was sized about the same
but flavor all it's own
used sweat socks soaked in gasoline
one match would send him home

a blaze of glory not deserved
it's best he's left to stew
and rightly he'll just hang his head
cause silence he eschewed

next time he'll shut his stupid mouth
before he makes a sound
who's kidding whom tomorrow could
find him on this same ground

a lesson taught ain't always learned
time and again he's shown
especially when between his ears
naught but testosterone

© Frederick Andrew ~ All Rights Reserved

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