Fighting Words

old poetry dump I REALLY don't know at what point in my life I wrote this, or why

Through the eyes of the beholder,

You are what you said you told her:

A blue body, growing colder;

In a pool you remember you sold her.

 

And in the minds of the less sufficient,

You are a popsicle.

In the minds of the insufficient,

You are dessert.

 

And while you're going wild on this mission,

You don't know you've made the wrong decision!

Popsicles, prepare your attack!

Popsicles can't fight back!

 

The sticks wait for you on the other side;

They wait along the River Styx.

Before you can mourn who's already died,

You'll be added to the mix.