Written by M.Night Shyamalan

One beautiful night in the middle of June,
a lonely man sat and he stared at the moon.

The weather was perfect no wind was hissing,
but still the man felt that something was missing.

Perhaps he was hungry he needed to munch,
but that wasn't it he had such a big lunch.

And then in that moment it popped in his head,
"I know what is missing: My soul. I am dead."

Natural Scowl

Natural scowl, oh my natural scowl,
you force yourself upon me.
What am I supposed to do?
I say to you, "Please flee!"

In my soul of souls I am not angry.
Why must my face show otherwise?
I wish to look happy, you know?
I wish to look like those other guys.

By "those other guys" I mean the happy ones,
the ones who smile bright.
The ones who show what "happy" is,
the ones who just look right.

My natural scowl is not jest,
it's how I was born to look.
If you do not like this poem,
then go read a god damn book.

My Daily Rebellion

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Link right here: My Daily Rebellion

Pleasent

I hope everything is quite pleasent.

Peas look at this

It's not too hard to ap-peas me. At the end of the day all I want is some peas and quite. Also, I drew this. Look at it if you peas. If you don't I'll track you down and give you a peas of my mind.

I really do wonder...

I wonder what the biggest age difference is where the younger person has pooped more times than the older person.


Click picture for full view

Oh, the insanity.

One banana, two banana, three banana, four.
Take them off the shelves and throw them on the floor.
Once you've done this senseless chore,
take off your shoes and run out the door.

Don't look left, don't look right,
unless you want a terrible fright.
Because in your heart you know they might,
come for those bananas in the middle of the night.

Run straight passed your loved one's houses,
see them sit with their children and spouses.
Watch as the man with a garden hose douses,
the mice in his yard, and by mice I mean mouses.

If ever it happens that you trip and you fall,
try not to get scared and curl up in a ball.
Just keep on running, perhaps scale a brick wall,
find a ventilation system and through it try to crawl.

No one will wonder what you are doing,
they're too busy watching the coffee that's brewing.
And like a horse that's in need of a good shoeing,
you ran on passed as the wind is whipping and whooping.

As wise men have said in stories of old,
"Only a fool will get caught in the cold."
You are no fool, you are brave and are bold,
and never let bread get covered in mold.

I'm sure you're wondering, "What's the point of this story?"
"Is he just making up rhymes for the sake of his own glory?"
I assure you I am not, to that I say, "Lordy, Lordy!"
I'm merely wasting time and now I'll retreat to the back fourty.