You’re fat, bald and ugly
You’re not getting any younger
You crave success, knowledge, and wisdom
Yet you do nothing to satisfy your hunger
The way you waste opportunities
It’s the worst kind of extravagance
You loathe yourself
For good reason
And the way you treat your body, it’s almost treason
Big Mike, just go to bed
Lie down and rest your weary head
The mind says “No! I cannot rest!
For my stomach churns, and my heart beats out of my chest!”
Big Mike, just let her go!
You know she’s nothing but a God Damned Hoe!
Oh, but no. I love the hoe, you see?
Can’t you see what she means to me?
I know I’m crazy. I should let things lie
But without her, my heart feels like it has died
The knife plunges into my stomach, deeper and deeper
I wish things could be different, that I could keep her
She’s no good for me, nor I for her
I believe “Toxic” is the word
So now, I bid thee adieu
Happy trails, to you, and you, and you
Michael Ryan Carroll Poetry 