The bard traveled
by foot
to her
next destination,
A lighthouse
in a small village
by the sea.
On the way,
she tuned her guitar
And sang this little tune
“Minky Linky
My boyfriend is stinky
He’s full of farts
After he eats bean tarts
That his mama makes him
Minky Linky
Promise with my little pinky
You wouldn’t believe his stench
If you were a fishmonger’s wench
Minky Linky
My boyfriend is stinky”
Onward she trod,
Singing her little ditty
Tuning her guitar
Steadily walking on
Towards the village
By the coast
So she could sing
In the lighthouse
About the Creator
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Day 4 of Quitting
If this is how sobriety feels, maybe it’s better to go through life a little buzzed… this, along with other hits like, I want to kill myself, I wish I was dead, and I’m going to throw myself off a bridge have been the only thoughts on rotation these past few days. I promise myself that if, in a month, I still feel like this (‘this’ meaning despondent, full of rage, and simultaneously numb) I can go back to smoking. Until mid-February though? Nicotine is off the table.
By sleepy drafts5 days ago in Longevity
Comments (1)
Lovely piece.