The Rerun Show Poem by Little King of Sorrows

Gone with the wind! Set sail with delight.
Destination Heaven. But landed in night.
Brilliant stars sparkle. They heckle above.
Someone was singing" Come and get it my love."

I sifted the box.
Where are my props?
A pointed hat I adorned.
Appointed myself a rose with a thorn.
The prick of a stick. I yelp and I lick.
The crimson red slick, I drowned in so quick.
Clever old flick. Or dirty old trick.
My stomach turns sour.
I ate of the flower.
Presented to me as in sickness I cower.
Oh for the love of thy power. Not my greatest of hour.
My dream maker starts baking some goodies for taking.
A musical sway, to take me away.
The star of the day. The joke of the play.
Put on display. It was a pleasure I say.
Look! No quotations. For someones dismay.
Had a dream I was king. Woke up. Still King.
As for tomorrow. Still a king of some sorrow.
The pain was a lone, that line you can borrow.
Fluidity luck laster. Go slower, go faster.
The shepherd's my master if I flirt in disaster.
When death grips my boy after merely two year.
The last thing I fear what pace I lay tear. And who to adhere.
I'm not held by a peer, or given a treasure so dear.

WHO?

WHO?

WHO M I?



A COLD SHOULDER USED TO CRY.
COBWEBS DONT HELP ME FLY.
A SIMPLE UNBLOCK OR HELLO.
SO I DON'T BE UNFORGIVEN. YOU KNOW?

EYES FALLING CLOSED,
A DEMO COMPOSED.
ASLEEP AT THE WHEEL,
NO MORE SECONDS TO STEAL.