The Dead Word Pile

The Dead Word Pile My fault, sorry, the writing’s on the wall. Awesome, pretty, don’t matter none at all. The words just have to join the pile Where all dead words will go. Their time is up, it’s over, done No longer in the flow. Jiffy, knickers, no silver linings here. Awesome, very, I’ll cry them in my beer. Selfie, twerk, will move to take their place. And words like cool, too long in use, Will not keep up the pace. Perhaps if I could hum them and set them to a beat. I’d roll down all my windows and blast them to the street. I’d use them one more time and mix them in a rant I’d use them all together to give them a new slant. I’d bounce them off the Dairy Queen, the Laundromat, the Mall I’d shout them out just one more time And try to save them all. But really now, their time is up It’s too late for the save. I give them up, forevermore And cast them to their grave. Whoops! OMG Another one bites the dust. Down the drain! MY BAD.