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Knucklehead
Knucklehead
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He won't take the meds, and knows that he'll die
If he misses those pills at the wrong time
Child of an irresistible force stubborn to a fault
Grew up to be the immovable object
Phenomenal IQ they say, yet he's perplexed
By the simplest things, distracted by stuff that’s shiny
And loves his cookies to a fault
Very caring and sharing, his last dollar to you he’ll give
Not giving it a second thought
Having survived falling from the top so many times
But he somehow manages to rise, again and again
She was right when she called him a knucklehead.
Copyright ©
Edward Ford
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