Mikie Draws

Yeah, I could tell you who it was, but where’s the fun in that?

The roses are dead
The Violets are fake
But The following must be read
Before it’s too late
You’ve taken my world
In the palm of your hand
And there it lies curled
Glistening And
Waiting for the ultimate decision
My world could be lifted
But that would take precision
Some might call it gifted
But being so far out
On a limb I
I wanna shout
Let my voice travel the sky
It could be so easy
To say what’s goin on
But I get queezy
At the thought of it going wrong
Is what I feel worth taking the chance?
of course I know it can only enhance
What I’ve got
and make me happier then not
But still there’s all that doubt
Yeah, that’s what this is really about
I wish there was some kinda sign
Something so I wasn’t travelling blind
But Maybe I fucked that up
When I sounded like I was willing to give her up
Really wasn’t my intention
To get that negative attention
But now I just don’t know
Well, time seem to tell all
And I’ve already paid for the show
Taking my seat just in time for last call

one of my older favorites. It was written to express some aingst about myspace screwing up when I was trying to post a bulletin that took me an hour to type. C’est la vei right? The “her” still exists…

So I was sitting at my pc earlier today
Doing nothing but typing away.
New Bulletin Was my goal
It was a Poem writting in whole.
See, I thought it was great
Almost an hour typing well worth the wait.
It was about a love lost
Or more precisely never gained
How her smile brought warmth from even the worst frost
And the fact that I can’t have her means I live in vain
But thanks to myspace
It’s gone without a trace
“Error” the screen had said
And with that, my eyes went dead
All this time, All this trouble
Oh how I wish I had saved a double
Too bad, too late
So Sad, So Irate.
Perhaps it’s for the best
Or Maybe just a test
A trial of my patience
Maybe I should take some time
Oh well fuck it
I’m tired of the rhyme.

I wrote this for the hurricane a while back. Another classic that flows nicely while making no sense at all unless you know either of us and our antics.

Arturo, Arturo
Como estan, El Burro
No wait you’re no ass
Well maybe if you add the hole
But we all need some more of your sass
So come slutty whore,
You’ve ended my bore
With a superhero’s wit
(while making a stop at Jackie’s)
You got a pinch of her t-“Hey look here you twit”
You beat up my lackeys!”
The bad man interrupted
“Oh, boy that’s it” you yelled
For You had errupted
They asked you what smelled
“Something really does reek”
“I tell you, it’s me”
“Tis of awesome we reek”
I shouted with glee.

(makes little sense and is crowded with rhyme
But figured some Suess would get you this time.
Tis not a poem you see
But A super-tale from me)

healthy
I see
not sick
no more ick
that’s susy for ya
not just a part of a
stupid rhyme
just trying to kill time
and here I go again
gettin’ lost ’round the bend
where will it end?
no one knows
when the reaper shows
cause when it’s time
I’ll stop the rhyme
and susy will be done
just like my fun
cause we can all live forever
or at least til the poems done

They say happiness is like a drug
I look at it like some annoying bug
Preferring to suck and drain me
As I swing wildly trying to get it
But it just buzzes around
Letting you know it’s there
And constantly out of reach.
It’s crazy to think what I’d do
If I caught it.
After trying so long
I really wouldn’t want it.
Instead I think I’d crush
The life from
It’s glittery-winged body
And sit in a hush
while happiness drifted away.
Ba-bum Ba-bum Ba-bum
It gets quieter, quieter, quieter
Ba-bum Ba-bum Ba-bum
Watching life flitter away
As things get darker
Ba-bum…
slower….
Ba-bum….
Almost gone….
Ba-…

Silence…
It’s gone
No more annoyances
Isn’t that happiness?