make my escape

10 Nov

when the dragons are in the dungeons

and the pork is in the pan

and the ceiling is collapsing

and the sun won’t shine

no matter how much i ask it to

and i ask so very nicely

it is then that i can see that

delay can be fatal attraction for me

death by dilly-dally

not a dignified way to go

and so i

make my escape

i fly out the window

and search for a star

are there any still shining?

i see none near

i see none far

and so i search within

that inky blackness

for something soft, warm

that smells nice

i could curl up somewhere

someplace forgotten in the tumult

where i can make myself whole

and wait

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