**One of my guilty pleasures is to write from a cartoon character's point of view, and make them as complex as they possibly can, using the writers hidden agendas, or even coming up with my own that fit into the characters behavior. This is one I did about the one and only Pooh Bear! Enjoy**
People who see me as dim witted
Are insignificantly acquitted
By true wisdom and cast off
To live on their own accord.
But my words may seem soft
And frothy but really can't afford
Much change to get across
A message like this to the simplistic.
I may chase such a simple immovable object
With such diverse methods of madness
That I might impugn my intellectual integrity,
Yet these claims do not seem to bother me,
For I see them as me casting an iconoclistic light
To the way things are normally betrayed.
I have a friend who shakes and trimbles,
But the way that he shiver
doesnt mean he is scared but aware
Of the world around him,
And the rumbles my abdmen is producing.
He knows the subtle addiction will seduce me
Into a comatose like overdose.
I have another friend who see's the world
As a reflection of his mood,
Or the vice versa.
He see's the world as it is true,
And has a gloomy mood
With a melancholy sort of
saddness to him.
Another friend has a semi-psychotic maddness to him,
And it has been sadly proven
That he is the only left of his kind,
When his charisma is refreshing...
To say the least.
His outside is a monsterous beast,
But on the inside he is sweet,
Conclusively, these friend are supportive,
But alas my wisdom is superier
Compared to their passive
Sort of simplistic ignorance.
They strive for different agendas
When I just search for the thing I'm fond of
But don't get engulfed because of their intrinsic needs.
My addiction is my curse,
Causing me to get stuck onto problems.
But with the help of these friends,
Their simplistic analysis of this dire situation
Much bigger than one little pig,
Much scarier than a pouncing tiger,
And much more depressing than a taleless ass.
My curse pleuges me as does a red balloon;
Property of a kid who doesnt understand that gravity
Is the reason why he cannot be one with the stars,
Yet this little red ballon sits in the heavens
Not worrying about the distance grown far.
This want to catch up with this balloon
Is the catalyst of horrific addiction;
Not being satisfied with where you stand,
And wanting to expand without the fuel.
Although I'm just a bear with a sweet tooth,
I'm not one to speak down to,
Or to try to rescue from the viscious circle,
Of cyclistic addiction,
Of consuming all that one has gluttenously,
Until the pain for me is consuming more than I've consumed.
Im just Poor, Old, Offset, Hero,
Who has a rummbly that cannot be fixed.
