Why so serious?
I know you want the air of mysterious
but this is just crazy.
Every reading you’re at
you attack me with somber soliloquies
of sensations and sadnesses you
somehow sauntered through.
And I feel bad for you.
But is that what you want?
For me to get caught in this trap
of slapped back sorrow.
Got news for you Sunshine
you’re due to rise tomorrow.
Look, I understand
that you might have had a man
who put his hands all over you.
Then proceeded to screw the
pyramid out of the cheerleading squad.
Or maybe you had that odd sort of fellow
who liked to bellow about his peacefulness.
Who liked to express his laissez-faire
in a Lazyboy chair as he finished off the
last of your food.
Hey that’s what pot does to you. Right?
And I get that you had a night
where you felt so alone that
you decided to talk to the phone
even though there was no one on it.
That there was a night where you sat
with a tissue in one hand,
a bottle of painkillers in another
and you hovered over the thought
which one was the better road.
These are stories I have been told.
But hey! Let’s have fun today.
Let’s ball tap an old man and run away.
Let’s go the library
and play the penis game.
I mean there has to be that room
in your mind where you can find
the funny shit you’ve done.
Where fun is napping and
waiting for a finger in the butt.
Hey...It’s a hell of way to wake it up.
So listen to me. I am begging you please.
Find a way to squeeze a smile
in between the times you’ve been defiled.
Find a rest stop on the 23rd mile
of this down road you've been walking for awhile.
Because if you don't
we'll all just kill ourselves.
Then you'll have to shelve
your self-righteous need
to make our hearts bleed
with daggers you create with your pen.
So smile little camper
things will get better.
Suicide, patricide, genocide, viricide, parricide, infanticide, tomecide, liberticide, famicide and most importantly menticide is not the answer.