Raindrops keep falling on my head,
Should be curled up inside instead.
Who needs a shower,
When this superpower,
Cleans me all up in the end.
Raindrops keep falling on my head,
Should be curled up inside instead.
Who needs a shower,
When this superpower,
Cleans me all up in the end.
Life is but a game,
Man’s eternal pursuit for acclaim.
Survival traded,
Instead overrated.
All for a name!
Bleary eyed we rise in the night,
Supporters to the end and ready to fight.
Through thick and thin,
Burried deep within our skin.
Hoping for that winning delight!
Really proud of this piece – capturing a lot of ‘Nerd Culture’
Ripe is the tapestry of hype.
Millennials dream as they swipe.
The latest game,
Is new to blame,
As miseries latest archetype.
A thriving unrivalled passion,
90 minutes of non-stop action.
Eyes peeled to screens,
Grouped helplessly like sardines.
Defining a lifetime of satisfaction.
I sit in darkness, a man blind.
The world around me has not been kind.
Depressed and lost.
My heart covered in frost.
My only hope, to rejoin the grind.
A penguin who danced on the ice,
Who should’ve thought twice.
You see, the worlds got hot,
And melt its brought,
Who’d thought it would be their demise?
I miss Mushroom the cat,
She was glorious and fat.
A bit of a tart,
She captured our hearts.
But now she’s dead on the mat!
It all comes down to this,
To define an off-season full of bliss.
It’s not always pretty,
but we have to score fifty.
We better not bloody miss!
The fall of the seasons,
Are absent from reason,
At one we freeze,
To burning degrees,
Perplexed avoiding feeling beaten.