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To Put It Poorly
To put it poorly,
You are the taste of chocolate
And the pulse of being high
Of caffeine running through my lungs
Of screaming towards the sky
And to put it even poorer,
I know a bird who cannot fly
A tiny owl, pink toucan,
A gray parakeet named Lice
To put it worst of all,
My veins are reddish, not-so blue
Just like the eyes of eight odd faces
Or the skies midday hue
But to put it stunningly,
So beautiful and true,
I have a coriander brain,
Coral grain and ghastly blue
Copyright ©
Some One
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