Saturday, September 6, 2014

No Regret

 




I have chicken feet,
I have red head,
I love roaming on the street,
Picking up crumbs of bread.
.
I am a perfect alarm clock,
Singing before dawn is the time I do tick tock
Rain or shine,
You can count on me to get the job done.
.
No regret
When it is time to die,
No panic hatred
When I am made into a pie.
.
I am a rooster, a guy
Who carries pride.
I am a self starter, that's why
I have nothing shameful to hide.



image credit: google.com

3 comments:

  1. a cock or a rooster is truly a good thing to think about.

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  2. You're a writer? Cool shoes. Me, too (kinda, sorta). I know for a fact, however, you gotta whole lotta intelligence behind those two ears, girl; thus, I wanna give you my finite existence: to intrinsically value the Great Beyond which I’ve learned to appreciate, to visualize the fundamental reality of infinity is why I‘m here for a teeny-weeny amount of time. Looky here...

    Precisely why I had our ‘philanthropic + epiphany’ (=so much to give + vision): wanna see a perfectly cognizant, fully-spectacular, Son-ripened-Heaven?? … yet, I’m not sure if we're on the same page if you saw what I saw. Greetings, earthling. Because I was an actual NDE on the outskirts of the Great Beyond at 15 yet wasn’t allowed in, lemme share with you what I actually know Seventh-Heaven’s Big-Bang’s gonna be like: meet this advanced, bombastic, ex-mortal Upstairs for the most juvenile-lip-service, ultra-groovy, picturesque-paradox, pleasure-beyond-measure, Ultra-Yummy-Reality-Addiction in the Great Beyond for a BIG-ol, kick-some-ass, party-hardy, robust-N-risqué-passion you DO NOT wanna miss the sink-your-teeth-in-the-smmmokin’-hot-deal enveloping, engulfing our catch-22-excitotoxins. Cya soon, girl…

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