I said, 'Good morning' to the moon,
But it went straight to sleep.
Screamed at the top of my lungs,
Only made my own ears bleed.
...
It's going to be a rough day.
One where you could descend into decay.
But do not wither.
It's just a funeral.
...
Apple of my eye,
How d'ya like your pie?
Crumbled like the rest,
Under your oh-so-clever jests?
...