It was you,
my blues,
the ones I chose
to be my muse.
From you,
I boozed and I abused,
to tattoo
bruises in your moods.
Then I sipped
and I snoozed,
the hopeful alarms of truths
off anyone
who wanted to join
my crew:
"The moos and the boos"
In here,
we shared our views,
the mistreat and the overuse,
we walked in your shoes
as if we had a loosen screw,
we ridiculed,
We laughed
We rescued insanity
to diffuse it like kangaroos
leaping in a pair of two's.
With a bag of marsupials
following our tracks
to reach world-news.
This was a zoo of you's
trying to find clues
to the hues that brewed the coffee
that didn't make you doze off
on your keyboard.
