A POEM OF MYTH AND GIRTH

just a work of intuitive introspection

A poem of myth and girth

A I wanted was to be
In a land unknown and big
Not like in the spelling bee
Where the stage was all for me

Then came the wonderland
At a glance without a gland
Could not give it a brand
Since it was just a land

There stood the market place
With lots of people in chase
Of things to settle their case
Not minding the time it takes

At once I moved in
To a place like an inn
Not understanding the kin
Of state I was strapped in

Having been caught in the cacophony
My face couldn't help but look phony
And then came sleep in harmony
With cool breeze from the stack of moly

Oh what a bizarre tale
Which made my look so pale
No wonder I couldn't tell
It's difference from an old pail