It never was that great, and now there’s this
You call it what you like, it’s this to me
Some adaptations taste like drinking piss
And no one wants to watch, unless it’s free
So I am free, you bastards to regale
Without the sense to follow Disney's lead
Within the belly of the fucking whale
A sonnet should be heard, but you just read
For what it’s worth, the truth is never true
For all you care, the lemonade was rum
Of course they’ll say it’s just what you should do
But I believe the train may never come
And so I know I’ll never say good-bye
To this, my muse, a fucking TBI.
This entry was posted on Saturday, November 26th, 2022 at 11:42 pm and is filed under Sonnets. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed.
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