An ode to the Lemons, that do not fall far from the tree....

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Offline feral

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When March has passed and the Lemon falls,
we seek solace in the Winter trolls,
Who's passionate fruits were left despoiled,
in the memory of a last posters call.

Reading what could and should have been,
stacked up like tombstones for someone more obscene,
in an obituary of the criminally inane,
we seek solace in his heartfelt shame.

Watching Poofter do what Poofter is,
reminds us all just what we can give,
Too a moment in time that should not be forgotten,
by lickspittle pricks and the ineffectually sodden.

I miss the full basket of Lemon already,
that left a sour taste in the mouth of the criminally unsteady,
while simply reminding us all what could be,
if we listened to you instead of listening to me.

She never always got it right,
while proving her point by candlelight,
but she did do more than KM ever did,
she whistled a tune and let it live.

Reading what he said and did,
is merely a reflection of who he is,
What Lemon proves beyond all doubt,
is that arrogance fails without a spiteful spout.

Let us all just remind ourselves,
that a failure to live is not about,
how you can never increase traffic to what you think,
of an ego overworked by a playground shrink.

I miss the Lemons in a Lemonade,
that confused us all in her imperfect charade,
by reminding us all who we were,
before nepotism crawled drunk across our floor.

"Rest in pieces", is what KM said,
while referring to the clinically dead,
What he really should have said,
Is I wish I could have walked the life she tread.
 

I’m glad I took the time to read it.

It’s very good! 

Take a bow.

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I’d like to kiss ya but I just washed my hair..
- Bette Davis 1931


 

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