The Dead Word Pile
The Dead Word Pile
My fault, sorry, the writing’s on the wall.
Awesome, pretty, don’t matter none at all.
The words just have to join the pile
Where all dead words will go.
Their time is up, it’s over, done
No longer in the flow.
Jiffy, knickers, no silver linings here.
Awesome, very, I’ll cry them in my beer.
Selfie, twerk, will move to take their place.
And words like cool, too long in use,
Will not keep up the pace.
Perhaps if I could hum them and set them to a beat.
I’d roll down all my windows and blast them to the street.
I’d use them one more time and mix them in a rant
I’d use them all together to give them a new slant.
I’d bounce them off the Dairy Queen, the Laundromat, the Mall
I’d shout them out just one more time
And try to save them all.
But really now, their time is up
It’s too late for the save.
I give them up, forevermore
And cast them to their grave.
Whoops!
OMG
Another one bites the dust.
Down the drain!
MY BAD.
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