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Wood if he could

Pinocchio don’t want to be no real boy no more Too many strings attached He can’t do this or that Tic Tac Toe Everybody telling him what to do, where to go He can’t go with no flow No more wild oats to sew. He’d rather be that puppet without strings Drinking with his buddies Listen to them sing Liar liar, pants on FIRE! So what if there’s some burnt wood? Things they be fun in the hood Only real boys gotta be good. Jiminy Cricket He miss that little fellow Conduit of conscience caution Kinda entertaining, sorta? To bad he wasn’t more mellow He heard Jiminy fell on soft times, tripped head first into a bowl of jello Ironically it was lime green He got chomped Curtain call! Jiminy’ final scene. Pinocchio’s mad You see real boys they gotta grow up Lessons need learning Fun? Hell no, something will always interrupt Eyes forward Become the teachers pet The best it ain’t happened yet Some decisions magical boys regret He learns the lessons Grows up, shuts up Becomes the thing he once was Just another puppet But this time somebody else pulls the strings.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2023




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Date: 12/15/2023 12:54:00 PM
Very creative poetry, Rick. Nice use of a story and characters we're familiar with. I enjoy the messages you put in the fun stories you tell through your poetry, my friend. Write On! Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year! Bill
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Richard Lamoureux
Date: 12/15/2023 11:50:00 PM
Much appreciated Bill. Merry Christmas to you and your lovely wife.
Date: 12/14/2023 7:12:00 AM
A fun poem that I liked for it's spin on an old childrens' story. You added a stroke of genius in the dialect speech.
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Richard Lamoureux
Date: 12/14/2023 11:09:00 AM
Much appreciated.
Date: 12/12/2023 5:37:00 PM
You've captured the metaphorical Pinocchio who learns many lessons a real boy must learn. This was a masterpiece, Richard. Am faving it, Sara
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Richard Lamoureux
Date: 12/12/2023 9:48:00 PM
You are kind and it is appreciated.
Date: 12/12/2023 1:21:00 PM
Oh, Richard, how masterfully you have captured the essence of Pinocchio's madness in this exquisite poem. It is a reflection on the inevitable process of growth that real boys must undergo, where the acquisition of valuable lessons often comes at the expense of joy and serenity. Alas, the pursuit of fun is constantly plagued by unforeseen interruptions, leaving one no choice but to keep their gaze fixed on the path ahead, striving to become nothing but the teacher's cherished protégé.
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Richard Lamoureux
Date: 12/12/2023 1:23:00 PM
I like how you interpret poetry. You are very perceptive.

Book: Shattered Sighs