You gave us diaper changes
Dusting off each dimpled duff
Finished with a pat or two
Goo-goo ga-ga in the buff
You watched us grow up roundly
Teaching true the Poo-Bah's prayer
Followed up at Christmastime
Chocolate fudge beyond compare
You cared for us in your way
Harking back those nappy times
Out of sight but never mind
Auntie Em a hundred chimes!
I remember how you once loved me,
your affections 'pon my heart string
oh, thank you my dear cousin Emily
to your 100th happy birthdays I sing!
They landed 'pon our open place
as six continent heartlands each
taking charge with mind control
they gave humanity these orders
Every human skilled as a literate
shall write one sonnet about love
yet violent rapists and murderers
must pen one ode for each victim
Our human ego, the five senses
show us a self-awareness taste
all feelings of importunateness
reinforced by me myself and I's
Saw Homo-sapiens' graveyards
uncovering the exhumed bones
of dead folk with skull attached
and I couldn't tell the difference
Well, looks like I'm on the B-side
recording end of my inferior ride
song's still okay, the lyric will do
yet finale 'tis near, 45 finish soon
The poetries aren't important anymore
they were only something for me to do,
'til I saw a healing saving me with love
I've made a run at poetry, though hopes are slim to none
I'll gain proper notorieties, long before the end has come
If life 'tis in the doing, I quite substantially wrote a tonne
still a wise journey keeps on tellin' me, I did it for the fun
I'm a dead twin talking, and I've said my poems a lot
But time only now for shorty, as one sec I haven't got
I'm not yet a skeleton, so I'll still hold hopes for more
And I'll keep speaking ode, 'til I pass the Reaper door
Unleash the kinks inside your mind
Invent, invent, invent some more
Do not be kind, do not rewind
And show the world your bardic roar
I'm surely not in a one-upping business
'tis hereby I doth neigh swear my intent
All sonneted competitive resemblances
are coincidences of the best lyrics I sent
I've thought of a sonnet to write
because I'm humane and poetic
'tis ode to all sapient conditions
and a species of utterly pathetic
You've plugged into something new
'tis the stuff of making men famous
your pen voice channels true center
well invoking an important thought
