My life is not a poem
It's just a dreamer's dumb idea
For lack of a shorter word
It's like an onomatopoeia
So come to terms with what you can
Because it's gone before you know it
My life is not a party
It's sort of like an omen
Rail a line coming to see you won't resolve
A bitter type coming to beat you up
Is a small, small part
A tortoise that's forever on its back
Will always beg for slower races
But slow and steady doesn't hack
When rabbits have the cuter faces
Take a day, a break
Polish all of your lucky pennies and throw them away