Without reason or rhyme

Its sunny outside
the mist has cleared;
my sweat smells sweet
I miss the moon.

Turn to look behind
abandoned souls follow.
Breathing heavy and conscious,
every limb,ligament and nerve.

Some words appear floating about
disjointed in action.
Like rags patched with gold
posing as Kings.

Sloths day dreaming from branches
awake to the full moon.
A meal for one more dream.

[Flick a switch]
TV comes alive. dinner is served.
I sit up to smile
so fine and optimistic.

run chicken run

Run Chicken Run

the juicier the faster.
Take all your babies,
before they are broilers,
It’s not your fault you’re fat,
some say that we are the brat.

In the end it’s a matter of life,
I suggest you hide away your wife,
And perhaps you shouldn't chatter,
cos our chef is ready with the batter.

Some do admire your brain,
some want to look good on the food chain.
You could try suing God,
but they are going to call you a fraud.
Don't you wish that you could fly,
not knowing we still need only one try.

Anyways, we’ll never know if you ever crossed that road;
Not while you are in the oven as today’s load.