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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required I'm near cuckoo This Monday blue A day not eas'ly recommended for making sense I'm way too tense And hung-over to comprehend it My mind's on the bend my imaginary friends are threatening to abandon en masse I was perfectly sane till they pissed in my brain negotiations are at an impasse It pains me to mention the bone of contention menacing our peaceful existence my voices of own creation went above their station with mutinous and unfair persistence Old Mother Hubbard had sneaked to the cupboard to steal skeleton bones for her yapper the skeletons in-wait welcomed their bait with little resistance managed to trap her As to why she'd no clue their demands were few and until met they'd keep her as hostage twixt two skeletons squeezed the hag was well-pleased only in dreams she was ever in bondage The skeletons vacated on their long-awaited crusade for their rights to be equal a sudden scurry in my head when the voices I have bred became hushed, which was rather unusual The spokes-skeleton passed a colorless wind voiced their single demand: to remain "We were made to vanish to a dark cupboard banished we demand henceforth to share your domain." A resounding "No! You'll stay down below we're totaling 20, including the yapper there's hardly space the din to embrace and an hour-long queue to the crapper." "Then the beldam Hubbard will remain in the cupboard lore would have it, bare to the bone the cupboard, that is not the hag, whose Maltese diced up raw will be fed to the crone. We implore you most kindly engage our host in negotiations and if necessary plead we want into his brain and share your domain or prepare for a skeleton stampede." PART 2 TO FOLLOW. THIS MIGHT TAKE A WHILE, AS I'M LOCKED IN HOSTILE NEGOTIATIONS
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