Johnny Poem by Becca Low

Johnny, there seems to be time
In reference, importance shall chime
Warriors and flowers do not blend
And counting hours to fend
Ignoring my deeper intentions of rival;
Every mountain climbs over the tower
Angels blow their horns for survival
Sheep sigh with relief as the dingos cower
Little in mind, thick headed infection
Engraved with no intellect nor wit
Existing sluggish of one direction
Progressive, nay, only sit
Seeked out - I recall the world is small
(Seeked in, in a universe, is it alive at all?)