2/16/21
one,
two,
buckle my shoe.
three,
four,
out the door.
five,
six,
pick up sticks.
seven,
eight,
lay them out straight.
nine,
ten,
the clock strikes again.
eleven,
twelve,
(a voyage to hell).
hold my hand jack
let's climb the beanstalk of inevitable.
dig your toes in its flesh,
drape your fingers around its vine,
and clamber upwards.
(it's a race you'll regret)
who will lose first?
your hope?
your joy?
your humanity?
rise and let the clouds kiss your cheeks;
a fresh face,
a harsh truth.
what's wrong jack?
you used to worship this for years.