Sunday, August 30, 2015

Colored-in pink - a poem

I was talking to my friend Fred the other day. 
He's going through a tough time.
Which is tough for him.
Because he's a drawing of a dragon.
And he's supposed to be tough.
But he didn't feel though. 
Because he'd been colored-in pink. 
And he had a unicorn horn drawn on his forehead. 
And there were several drops of dog pee on the mountain drawn adjacent to him.
And the mountain looked lame. 
Like a snow capped turd. 
Only not that turdy, more like a brown triangle really.
But it looked more like turd than a mountain.
And it was supposed to be a mountain.
So that's super lame. 
And he had a huge fold through his midsection.
Cause some idiot had thought it was ok to put him in a pocket.
A pocket damn it. 
That's no place to put art.
Art should be on a wall.
Or in one of those art folders.
You know the ones? 
They're like folders.
But made for art. 
And he was unable to breathe fire like so many of his friends could.
Which is such a let down when you're a drawing of a dragon. 
It's probably one of the top five best things about being a dragon.
Better than being hunted by knights at least.
And if your going to cop that you want to be able to breathe fire at them. 
Oh plus his best friend is a delusional man that's thinks you can befriend drawings. 
Yep Fred's doing it tough.
I'm doing well though, so things aren't too bad.

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