I were the secret spy!

Too Good,

Ill fated fact

That which tragically happens

Even to ill tempered tragic cats

Sits and wonders, licks its paws

Rat blood dripping

The recent little victim

We took for lunch

When Master of  Bloood

Was not happy with this new blood!

And was losing some patience due

To the rash on his nose

And his eyes smoked

Then Goat was wanting to play with Master Bloood

Goat licked his shoes then ate his sleeve

All was good and happy!!!

What I learned today

Talking a lot about my theory on unreality in great depth

Unfortunately created that very feeling.

America

Something is going on in America right now that defies description, even by a poet.

Twisters.

For the maybe

There are three hours

With full support

Padding from pads

To the room

With all the ravers

The baloons

Hold them good

Give to the humans

Free the baboons.

Sad poem.

Not a place of dreams

Everyone is dealt a bad hand

The demons get to laugh

The angels cry


Not a place of dreams

We put on our smiles

And hide our scowling screams

As a boomerang bangs


Not a place for dreams

Power doesn't mean anything now

Just a bowl of rotten schemes

And roses get danced upon


Not a place of dreams

Fear is open for business.