Email Poem

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Poem
A former Oiler once said 
Staying out of debt 
Give up being a bum 
Fill up my son 
Call yourself a titan 
And go do some fighting 
Years then passed 
While pumping gas 
This entrepreneur realized 
There has been one too many lies 
Staring down the Giant model making Ford 
Letting out a Lion’s roar 
“I am a Texan 
It is time I start checking 
I wear the red, white and blue 
What are you going to do?”
Later on a lone star 
Was sitting outside in the car 
Having DC red skin 
Due to the twins 
They do not look alike 
And someone gave one a mike 
Keeping an eyeball on them 
Waiting for the word ‘when’ 
After the family meal 
It was the deal 
A lone star imprinted on center stage 
Relieving everyone from the dining table cage 
There was a plan to capture the scalp 
From the lone star who was knocked out 
“How dare the twins 
In all their wins 
Not look the same 
Playing their game fore fortune and fame” 
Mumbled the lone star in a dream 
Allowing everyone in the room to scream 
“What a hairy situation this was 
But we all know being a lone star you needed the buzz” 
As the moon started to rise 
And sun disappeared from the sky 
Death was flying in the air 
When the steel curtain decided to open the stage affair 
Edgar had his reason to use his de Penn 
While having one last left over dessert in the den 
Giving all his heart to the night time entertaining start 
Understanding the pendulum in the pit was made of metal 
And issues had to be settled 
This left old Edgar a reason to mettle 
Before putting some more in his cryptic kettle 
Since the Texan lone star twins were no longer there 
It was time a poet writes a scare 
Acting like a crow
This drunken Poe 
Without a mate 
And a date 
He started tweeting 
Keeping the holiay season pulse beating 
“Day of thanks is almost done 
And festive time has come 
Gothic autumn classics 
Have turned their leaves over to shopping plastics 
But it is not what you give 
It is how you live 
I will give it now over to Mr. Dickens 
Whose words are still ticken 
Go forth in artistic ways 
We will all pray 
When the Saints play 
In the French Quarter on Christmas Day”
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