A Poem of Metaphors

A POEM OF METAPHORS What's so clean about 40 dogs? How does one go hog wild? If life was truly like a rollercoaster, Then the ride would be fun the whole while. How does one's character be truly shady, when one’s character cast no shade? One would have the ability to light up his own life, A most confusing escapade. If one missed a beat, or was as blind as a bat, he'd be off target in broad daylight. He would have no rhythm, and could only see, as well as rodents can see at night. And if shades of gray were as romantic as red, then shades of red would be as obscure as white. If tulips were actually lips of two, Then kissing flowers would be quite the sight How can one go feeling blue? What does that really mean? I suppose it would be as difficult to imagine as it is not easy being green. If time was money I'd be filthy rich, and if being rich would make me dirty. Then the sweet smell of success would be so nice, as I would smell rich and flirty. If being as proud as a peacock meant being prideful, Then the pursuit of love would have no glory, Taking it to the top would not mean the beginning, To what end is the end of the story? I suppose I'll quit this monkeying around, I’m completely out of metaphors. For the monkeys have returned to the wild and the zoo, and my ideas have run out the doors!