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Saturday, March 8, 2014

A Maudlin Retreat From Sanity

I hide beneath my umbrella
Sheltering myself from your tears
"Oh why oh why do you cry" I ask
"Is it from the pressure of your fears?"

Or is it the counting of your hours
As they blend into days and nigh unto years
Prancing about upon cloven hooves
Suffering a demon's demented leers

Perhaps your carriage has broken m'lady
Making horrid grinding noises within it's gears
Though I think it may be under warranty
Seeing as how you recently bought it at Sears

But now I see that it is due to the absence of your favorite pursuit
The annual sticking of the center spheres
With muscular riders straddling their mounts
A'glinting tipped longhorns adorning galloping steers

Alas all this is only making a sow's purse out of pig's ears
As the surgeon can opens your skull for a closer look
Even as your brain looks back at him as he peers
Causing him to scribble frantically in his little black book

Sanity, it seems, is fleet-footedly flying from your grasp
And I remain your steadfast servant
Decisively dodging your tears up to your last gasp