Bolox
Leaning precariously into the wishing well;
He peered through the eye of the needle;
Observing the dead kipper;
Its lifeless eyes stared into a world of delusion;
Not intimidated by the clang of the wrecking ball;
Falling upon deaf ears of momentous whispers;
But rather mortification,
Of impending delirium.
No parallel could be reached;
After the light of darkness had crept into his abstract mind;
Confusing the issue;
Where was the toast not quite done;
The jelly bean formation;
Who could tell at a distance;
He stopped his bicycle,ajusted his clips;
Recoild and said aloud.
"Who'd have thought it."
Sent as a joke to poetry.com
