© 2016 by P Michael Biggs
I crys and crys
Tears fill my eyes
I want some pies
They fill my thighs
Is there no ally
I’m not a bad guy
I just might die
If I don’t get pie
Can I buy
A slice of your pie
Your pie I did spy
As I flew by
How blue the sky
How low am I
I smell a fish fry
But it’s not your pie
Don’t mean to imply
I’ll steal your pie
But if you were I
I’m certain your pie
Would satisfy
In the blink of an eye
I would modify
My alibi
For a bite of your pie
No comments:
Post a Comment