Mysteries Poem by Gerald Flippinhanger

Sheets
(on the empty bed of mine)
Are Tangled
(after some bad dreams last night)
And The Bed
(where i slept alone)
Is Wet
(after i cried myself to sleep)
My Back Is Aching
(after that intense workout)
And Her Thighs Are Sore
(after that lovely bike ride)
Why Must The Night End?
(because i have to clean my dentures)
And Why Do People
(always stare at my bald, shiny head)
Always Twist My
(words, making them seem worse than they are)