Told ya

I was told: "Future favors the bold;
hare dost not drink champaigne;
donky not raze nor campaign..."
Configned to the confy chair:
"Still lone wolves chests ridled with shotguns bold!"


Shellshocked, splicing a hair;
who could prolong the moment of craving?
Calling shotgun or silent in stares.
Going up or down the stairs;
while the values and virtues go ensnared!


I was told: "To be or not - out of the question -
to doubt ones self and means to an end.
Attitude is a success!" to correlate altitude;
whether you wither or transcend
spontaneous in selfloathings combustion...


If morrow never dies, and world is not enough,
what to endare more to venture yonder?
If all hath been suckled and drank to the last;
then no secret is left to be seen and ponder...
Isn't it dull to live on even for a cough?


Pain is the answer, calamity the remedy.
For life is seasoned with distress and agony.
Every precious moment becomes special;
emanating spacial resolve while the life is short...
At hand - to live and be content is the greatest of fun comedy!

Unitorn

You speak of Unity I feel so torn;
forlorn the cothers of foreboding.
it clauses us to uniform --
our gestures born, again be breaded.


the breast with mouthwashed bullshit snowflaked;
the corn was popped like no mans business.
No porn so frisk to back up the scorn bates;
some Fish shortcircuit Jokers buzziness!


Transcending critics sqewered biggots;
idiosyncrasis is the riot!! Crates expired,
tropes flaming Nihilistic maggots --
maneur man holed a bowl-in-gun retired...


The Sun farewelled the honeymoon;
sweet strawberries and hangmans yokes.
The moose was staring at the broom;
stalking under the pinetree for some pokes.


Rhiny and Unicorns banned the Giraphe;
his neck was in the clowds finding Silver linings.
Not solid on the ground, depressed or scathed;
just ring the bell to be G.I. Jane in armors shining!


To heir the gloom of foreboding Doom
make it a game to tick the retweet...
confined the Swansongs into swastica - Boom
some fried sticks may still trick or treat!


Some are kicking ohters wear the rubber;
or are too english to utter the spell.
Erazed the hair and bairded globbers;
muniched the munchkin Berlin wall seashell.


A landslide mug may turn a blind eye
even some prying lids may soon disguise...
better acuse the supposition with lullabies
everything is too old-younger and not even poised!