On the day four beasts fell…
Their tails whipping the sky in smoke
Consumed by their own fire
Such commerce
Brought down an ancient spire
Little did the beasts care
A mighty success 5 years prior
When just one was saved
From confusion and mire
For as the cock crowed
In a mourning flame
If they would’ve recognized a sun
They would’ve known when thearthwon
April 16 2024
April 15 2019
Smiling behind your receipt
Tangible evidence of your deceit
The date and time don’t match up with mine
You told me it’s fine I don’t have to whine
My family think I’m pushing through it
But I’m just not man enough to do it
How come I put the shotgun in my mouth
But end up shooting myself in the foot
I’m just gonna end it in Copenhagen
Just the one place I can’t find myself hatin’
I don’t really feel it anymore
Pray to god you’re fine but not as fine as you were before
Copenhagen came into view
over looking the industry findings
of Heidelberg sinking shores
I'd mustered enough nerve to escape
his fist his open hand again twisting
my arm I still held the stone he threw
at my back busting my shoulder blade
the woman at the dinner assures me
I would be fine never the less panic fills
my chest I pray my suffering ends soon
perhaps he'd find something that interests
him as much as attacking me I'm hopeful
in my absence he will surely move on
to a new hobby either way Copenhagen
is wonderful this time of year.
Written by Mrs. Yolanda Joy Nicholsen
Down to earth comedian who brings the house down with laughter
Legend of Copenhagen says tree troll is a tale.
He is a wooden giant who drank way too much ale
This tall tale was fed to me by gullible cousin Gale.
Who also heard that tree troll devoured greens and kale.
We searched for this rascal over many hills and dale,
His infectious story was spreading fast without fail
Every version that came back to me was fun, never stale.
A city where
Sky scrapers are rare
As is the city
So are its buildings, compact!
Scraped by the sky they seem
Yet intact is their splendor and grandeur
Modernity fused with the classic ancient
Decorates its highways and streets
Spell bound and enchanted
By its beauty I was to be
If it were not for the voice of duty
That called me back home
FAREWELL!!
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