“No more... She won’t grace you again.”
Retain what eloquence to the stage of a rehearsed smile,With a look like the clown from the Simpsons; that limp cigarette ridden smile,You’re probably just as happy as him too, while you feed her to the lions,The trail of empty caffeinated cans lead us to believe you’d arrived with the wrong solution.
Think you can hold your own as we hock the remains of her to our friends,Or will you lose your shape and try to piss over our poorly attended parade?Although she is still around, we still miss that smell increasingly bitter smell of vanilla,But we’ll never miss the price you charged us to spend time with her on the playground.I think it’s time to admit that you were wrong and send her home with us.
She hid away in my garage,Accompanied by all the beer and my entourage,Of the mess she’d and profit she’d made,They came looking for you while I was at school,In the masses they came and they paid,For her.
Years went by and the playground swallowed her up,She became the ghost that only haunted me,Haunted chalky break-time retreats,You’ll never feel my lips again.
Maybe I’ll spend some time with one of her hotter sisters?I miss you vanilla coke.
My whack at some poetry from this years poetry module!
I can be quite fun if you read it in the right light.
Til next time x