Pop Goes The Weasle Poem by Stella Andrews

round and round the marligo bush
the monkey chases the weasle
the monkey stops to pull up his socks
and pop goes the weasle

isnt it sad how a simple childs rhyme resembles my life?
i feel like im the weasle.
a pathetic waste of space that god put on the earth by accident.

i feel like im going around in endless circles
being chased by someone at all times
im never allowed to stop and rest
i have to keep running

then the monkey,
the funny charming monkey that everyone loves,
the one chasing me,
the one that will never let me lie,
just stops from time to time

to look around,
to check out some girls
go fu.ck someone over there,
then back to me
chasing me around in circles again.

then the final conclusion,
so many supressed feelings building up.
sick of going in circles
sick of him stopping to the side
sick of being the waste of space that nobdy wants or ever needs.

pop goes the weasle