Dedicated to the one in me that loves to rhyme... Manically!!
No ruse for suesse for he is now loose,
when the pen is loose, I surely abuse,
The rhyming rhythms, of Dr suesse,
A pipe is all I need you see,
For the release in me,
Of my three I.D.s,
Theres three I.D.s in me, You see,
After smoking pipes,all of us, us three,
There is no need for hysteria,
In dealing with my schizophrenia,
I rather deleria, for dealing with my schizophrenia,
Surely no room for any hysteria,
So a pipe I like, I like a pipe,
To reaquaint the three I like,
But here's the thing,
One thinks he sings,
To the table a lullaby he brings,
He tries to sing, as he hopes it brings
Happiness to all, even the other two things,
Happiness? asks the other two things,
Is this what he really hopes he brings,
One of me is such a bore,
Three pipes he likes,
Then he starts to snore,
He's such a bore' that one who snores,
But number three, you may find me,
An introvert, you may see,
If you ever find that number three,
For number three, if you were to see,
Is sitting right here, writing you this poetry...............
Of course there is also one more,
He will not write, sing or snore,
Depression is a whole lot more,
So I do not talk about number four.....
Prompted by an inadvertant chat at god knows what hour with Rache Mc... Thanx Rache,,, hehehe
Poetry by rob vale
Read 304 times
Written on 2009-02-08 at 02:51
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Confessions of a schizophrenic
The suesse is loose this is no ruse,,No ruse for suesse for he is now loose,
when the pen is loose, I surely abuse,
The rhyming rhythms, of Dr suesse,
A pipe is all I need you see,
For the release in me,
Of my three I.D.s,
Theres three I.D.s in me, You see,
After smoking pipes,all of us, us three,
There is no need for hysteria,
In dealing with my schizophrenia,
I rather deleria, for dealing with my schizophrenia,
Surely no room for any hysteria,
So a pipe I like, I like a pipe,
To reaquaint the three I like,
But here's the thing,
One thinks he sings,
To the table a lullaby he brings,
He tries to sing, as he hopes it brings
Happiness to all, even the other two things,
Happiness? asks the other two things,
Is this what he really hopes he brings,
One of me is such a bore,
Three pipes he likes,
Then he starts to snore,
He's such a bore' that one who snores,
But number three, you may find me,
An introvert, you may see,
If you ever find that number three,
For number three, if you were to see,
Is sitting right here, writing you this poetry...............
Of course there is also one more,
He will not write, sing or snore,
Depression is a whole lot more,
So I do not talk about number four.....
Prompted by an inadvertant chat at god knows what hour with Rache Mc... Thanx Rache,,, hehehe
Poetry by rob vale
Read 304 times
Written on 2009-02-08 at 02:51
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
