A Woesome Lil' Ditty Poem by Paul Amrod

A Woesome Lil' Ditty

Rating: 5.0


Woke up this mornin' feelin' aches and needin‘ pity
Murmurin' quite lightly a woesome lil' ditty
Takin' aback while I've been lickin' my fingers
Caught up in an orgy of bacon and some ginger
Ask my lover what's the sense in hangin' around
Stupefied and mummified with a muzzle on my hound
Cos' he's pissed wid' dishonesty staring him in de' face
Disappeared is the modesty of this horrific human race
Playin' with tarot cards to search for the hullabaloo
Twisted at an angle on the way to the local zoo
Sneerin' are the monkeys who read thru the secrecy
The homo sapiens are lost makin' money stifflin' any decency
Followin' regulations without thinkin' thru de' process
Mobbin' as second nature where the numskull has no access
Rumblin' through the market place stealin' de' place in line
to ruin politeness wid' an attitude which the truth did undermine.
Why? I'm weary with proper manners so out wid' de' etiquette
Trippin' over my shoe laces while playin' some borin' croquet
Shoutin' out hallelu for I thought it was a holy triumph
to drop a rational logic for dealin' cards without a trump.
Shakin' my noggin left and right droolin' venom down my chin
Left a nauseatin' atmosphere with a slovenly lackluster discipline
I don' wanna let the people know that I am disgustingly revoltin'
Last time I said somn' kinda smart I was a derelict unfoldin'
Walk away from my atrocious style to hold your sanity
Findin' it good that I am not eaten up with sum' stupid vanity
Heal me from this vale of tears where I started once complainin'
Wonderin' how long I'll be hangin' or on this Earth remainin'
Ain't got no ticket to the Pearly Gates! I don' have an invitation
Never had a chance to figure out what the hell was sophistication.
Tar and feather my buttocks and display me for all the kids
They don' wanna turn out like I did! This your mudda forbids.
Think I'll be movin' soon like a measly hermit in my shack.
Gotta save the innocent world for I'm a kleptomaniac
Look, don' touch; I never understood all my wretched life.
Never got a break so I was stuck to slander and connive.
You may look at me and feel sympathy and say a lil' prayer
However I didn't earn your empathy, I'm a victim of despair.
Now I can't even talk too straight, I muffle and I stutter
My mind is full of garbage. I may end up in the gutter.
Cashin' in my marbles for the game of crap is through.
Rollin' up like a ball cos' I just ain't even got a clue.
If you waste your time tryn' to assist my helpless state
I might even bite ya' and go mad and git irate.

Sunday, January 14, 2018
Topic(s) of this poem: comedy,ironic
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Paul Amrod

Paul Amrod

Chateaugay, New York
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