Mister Wister and his woeful eyes
Only thinks about his own demise
Purple blood under waxy skin
Can’t you see he’s wearing thin?
Mister Wister doesn’t cry
Only looks beyond the sky
In his brain where things are caught
Scanned over, pulled real taught
Mister Wister mustn’t move
His bones might crack, skin will prune
There was a time when he would dance
Maybe again he’ll get the chance
Once he came upon a wishing well
Coins bountiful, water swell
But in his pocket was nothing there
All that he could do was stare
Many meals once in his belly
Why must he feel so empty?
Sorrow of a fleeting dream
His misery bound by wire seam
What happened to all of his time?
Did he throw it away, leave it behind?
Only when the Sun might glow
Will he find he’ll never know
Take him as your lesson learned
That life is lived, it isn’t earned
Categories:
wister, longing,
Form: Rhyme