Monday, 21 November 2011

If you'd really like to know, he went that way.

Fade out, fade out,
We only let it begin
And this is not the end,
As I fade out, leaving only the grin;
The romeraths' outgrabe... It starts again,
Just a tabby, moggy, mut,
You go whichever way
I prefer the short-cut.
Can you stand on your head?
Come child, you look unwell,
And entirely not yourself,
Lets get you off to bed;
Or should that be
Off with her head!
One tends to say and forget
What one, in the first place said,
Or who am I or who is you,
I wouldn't trust that Cat,
Try the March hare or the man in the hat;
Of course, they're mad too,
Calloo, callay, come run away,
It doesn't matter what you do,
It really doesn't matter which way you go,
When both ways go
Where you want to get to.
Smile and begin to disappear,
Drink this bottle, feel ever so queer;
Not so good for your height
But it wont harm your health;
Oh, you can't help that.
You may have noticed
That I'm not all there myself.

1 comment:

  1. Buen poema, Leggy, con el misterio y la independencia de un minino.

    Abrazos alados!