A.I.O.T.I.C.A Poem by Catalaaka Artistic Insight of the Inner CHild
So I'm sitting here after watching countless songs sung by little orphan Annie
And her little orphan friends on You tube, Suffocated by nostalgia and feelings of childhood. I'm going crazy I swear it with each bite of Neapolitan Ice cream I consume. All because of the damn chocolate shell topping I've doused it in, Sitting there taunting me lying unbroken and uneaten As I carefully and painstakingly Dig the ice cream from a small hole on the side. I hate breaking a masterpiece, And the inner child in me, Oh I hate that inner child, is screaming. DON'T BREAK IT DON'T BREAK IT! Because this little monstrosity that is Growing inside my brain devoutly believes that maybe Just maybe If I can eat all my delicious dairy desert With out cracking that god forsaken shell of chocolatey hell I can make a wish. You know the kind of wish that only ever comes true When you complete some seemingly impossible task Like slaying a dragon that can only be killed by tickling it's inner left nostril, Or I don't know, house training the dog you stupidly named puddles So you gave it a REASON to live up to it's namesake. And I'm yelling at myself not to break it, I'm only three bites away. Oddly fitting One strawberry, One chocolate, One vanilla, Three bites from my wish. The wish that I can just make it and everything will be Just damn fine And good And dandy. Hiccups… I always hated those too, hiccups, hiccups, you plague me, And you've come again. One small *hic* And a small barely audible crack, And my eyes, wide with childlike innocence Watch my chocolate sHell crumble in on itself and melt Within the deliciously soft and cool puddle of three flavored ice cream Swirling in the bottom of my cup. A sigh as I dip my spoon into the bowl once more, A spoon once cheery and bright but now smeared with my spite. And it enters into my mouth; Three flavors held precariously on it And then it enters my mouth, Slides slip slip slippery onto my tongue. A tongue scientifically proven to under taste everything. A soft sigh of contentment As my inner child Just as in true youth Is easily distracted. YUUUUUUUUUM Reese's. © 2009 CatalaAuthor's Note
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Added on December 31, 2009 Last Updated on December 31, 2009 AuthorCatalaLAAboutI'm uploading old poems, and trying to write some new, so, yes, massive uploads. sorry ehheh "What is plucked will grow again, What is slain lives on, What is stolen will remain What is gone .. more..Writing
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