Tired of Fishing
Mr. McHugh use to be fun
until he saw my pink heart
and took his for a run
I prefer to imagine him dead though,
but that's denying truth
while maintaining a boat full of lies
Besides love personifies everything
including this cup of java
my hands seek solace in,
they attempt to fill empty space
with the illusion of humanity
I am lost to air now,
it carries me across oceans of men,
but I've given up on fishing
never snagged a keeper
that I'd be willing to clean
plus they always flop
out of my grasp anyway
just like Mr. McHugh did
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