The Battle
The Battle
“Open up; it’s yummy,”
Mom lied to me.
Her eyes held mirth,
Of that I could see.
I did what I could.
I turned this way then that.
But what I really could have used,
Was a baseball bat.
It was hopeless of course,
Of that I could see.
That’s when an idea,
It came to me.
I opened my mouth,
And took it all in.
And then turned my head towards mommy,
With a most evil grin.
What I did then,
Even Satan would have been amazed.
I spewed up that muck,
In a blistering haze.
The mass of goop,
It flew true as an arrow.
As if shot from a shotguns,
Double barrel.
Splat! The fluid,
It ran down mommy’s face.
I thought the battle over,
But that wasn’t the case.
Mommy didn’t even flinch,
She just reloaded her gun.
My eyes saw defeat,
For there was no place to run.
This time the sludge,
In my mouth, was forced down.
I was totally surprised,
For I didn’t make a sound.
That green stuff that,
I had battle that day.
It was kind’a alright.
Yes, it was kind’a Ok.
Copyright © Brian Cecil | Year Posted 2016
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