The bed-wetter rolls over and out of bed,
grabbing sheets and cursing his beastly piss.
His tight blue briefs cling to his skin.
He keeps them on while he makes coffee,
too lazy to powder his red rashed asss,
too weary to launder his shame.
He walks out his front door, down the drive-way,
barefoot, shirtless,
stinking, worthless.
He reaches into the mailbox;
it is too early for mail.
His neighbor approaches.
"You piss the bed again, Frank?"
"Huh?"
"BED-WETTER!! AHAHAHAH!!!"
He runs back towards the house,
the wind cooling the soaked cotton,
shriveling his balls further into his gut.
He gets a cup of coffee, walks into his office,
grabs his dented silver helmet,
and sits down to write a poem.
He slowly taps out the words:
"Ding ding ding."
Yes, he thinks, this could be
something.
This could change
the world....
grabbing sheets and cursing his beastly piss.
His tight blue briefs cling to his skin.
He keeps them on while he makes coffee,
too lazy to powder his red rashed asss,
too weary to launder his shame.
He walks out his front door, down the drive-way,
barefoot, shirtless,
stinking, worthless.
He reaches into the mailbox;
it is too early for mail.
His neighbor approaches.
"You piss the bed again, Frank?"
"Huh?"
"BED-WETTER!! AHAHAHAH!!!"
He runs back towards the house,
the wind cooling the soaked cotton,
shriveling his balls further into his gut.
He gets a cup of coffee, walks into his office,
grabs his dented silver helmet,
and sits down to write a poem.
He slowly taps out the words:
"Ding ding ding."
Yes, he thinks, this could be
something.
This could change
the world....