Pricks assail from every which way
I keep kicking but they're not going away
I'd symbolize nine tenths of them with one sign
Something like an S with a double line
Yet still I contemplate no great escape
too bad my ship's made from boxboard and tape
confess sometimes I fear the pricks will fade away
do too good bluffing this weak hand I play
what will I kick at then what will I fight
get left alone with just myself all day and night
night and day after day I ask just the same
can I even give this dilemma a name
is it really indecision is it dimmer tricks
or am I just rolling to escape the pricks
No comments:
Post a Comment