Poor Old Me, Rich Old Me

They speak
Tell the old clock,
Not to speak at all
She wears an old cloak
She no more stands tall

Her music now fades
No tone, her croaky voice
She’s earned archaic grades
She’s gone back to toys

Tell that tree there
She’s now for exhibition
Just tell her, Live in fear
She proves no boastful ambition

Let her words be wrapped
Released only upon request
The folks have already trapped
Her minds oddest quest

Weakened wheel no grease
Stretching hands, commands for all
Ah, how I wish you’ll be teased
We await your mighty fall


She speaks
White men approach me
I run, but frail within
White men, radiant thee
I move out, you move in

Bring my good mug
Hot beverage no teeth
Sip sip sip no slack
May not even see today my feet

My words are fully opposed
Unperturbed, Ha, why worry
Treasure so beautiful, tossed
Foolery, they reject the worthy

Not bothered by this journey
Away with ignorant amateurs
Though not always right, this army
Of sense would not get you teary.

All they have, mine wealth before
Peacock strides, caramel dermises
Not for eternity, nevermore
This is not an eternal premises


4 thoughts on “Poor Old Me, Rich Old Me

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s