The Bedridden Monster

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
taken from my book, "I Gotta Find My Madness"

Submitted: September 11, 2016

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Submitted: September 11, 2016



The Bedridden Monster


Well, I could eat breakfast

Or I could run around like a chicken

__with my head cut off

Which will it be?

How will I think?

What will I drink

__that doesn't end in disaster?

What do I understand about anything, these days?

The world is crumbling in my hands

This is all I can stand

Where ever the world went

It sure doesn't miss me

I laughed

__like a tuned up motor

____of a madman's laugh

And when the world was gone

__I cried for ages

I don't miss bakin' my brain

But I do miss the bacon

I ate it all

Whatta you know?

Stop tearing me apart

I don't love you that way

Let's just end this

Let's just chop off your brain

Oh, don't tell me "it's silly"

I don't wanna hear those words

Not coming from you

Just lie there, dead

After I cut off your head

And that should be thee end

If you don't like it

__then, too bad

I, on thee other hand, love it

Don't ask me to amuse myself with laughter

I'd rather die trying to bask in the wealth

If you knew me any better

__than a man going to Hell

Then what's all the nourishment back to health

__supposed to be doing once I ring this bell?

The murder that happens all the time

Does it have to be right?

Let's just let the ball flop around

And we'll wonder where the noise went

When the dead leave town


09-11-'16 #1

D. L. Cannon

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