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Poem

Most of what I write about
Never even came close to happening
Is this perhaps a failure on my part?
Do you wish to see me beneath all this covering?

Well truth be told I'm kind of a quiet person
One who finds awe in the most random things
Even a minuscule fleck of dust
Can inspire a song from deep within!

I like to ride my bike in the summertime
Beneath shadowed trees - where it feels most sublime
I like to laugh at nonsensical sounds
I don't even care if anyone else is around!

I like to say "Hi there!"
Even if the greeted looks rather glum
Though somewhat selfish
I like to think I'm as open-minded as they come

This is all just the outside,
The well maintained exterior of the inner me
As a machine often leaks oil, as do I bleed ink
Forming a map to guide you through -
The country of Timothy!

I won't lie and say
It's the best place to live and die
(Though it is pretty seeing
The occasional thought breeze by)

You best grab them squirmy things
While they're good and hot
Some are gold and some only copper...
But it's honestly all I got!

The denizens serve me well
In my castle high on the hill
But they don't know the King himself
Has even bigger shoes to fill

His friends and family tug and pull
Wishing me to be like this - to be like that
Well ME is all I will ever be!
Did I not just show you the map?



Inspired by the zany poems
of Jack Ellison

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