True Love of Coffee

This goes into the “Barry is a disturbed person” file. One of my friends challenged me to write about something she thought was cute and fun, and I obliged her request with a demented smile. (Mwhwhahahahaha!). It needs some work, I’m not claiming it to be perfect yet…. but it fills my ‘eViL’ qouta for now.

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Ah, the world had thought me lovable.
I was, for the most part, very likable.
Cute, huggable, and even adored by some
But I had a mean streak, a little anger problem
A hidden closet in my home that no one had visited alive
Full of sharp axes and poison that made me giggle with glee

No one knew how dark my world was
They always thought it was full of happy picnics
of floating red balloons and perfect sunny days
But the truth was far easier to hide from innocent eyes
I was a personality of passion, accustomed to taking what I deserved
And simply blaming my stupidity for the evil things I enjoyed

I could push people down in the mud
and simply say ‘oh my’
My home could be filled with little trinkets I thieved
and openly confess I merely forgot where they came from
But most importantly, I could have jars
Brilliant jars that allowed me to collect my true obsession

No one understood my need for jars, so I have a need to confess
I sat on the center of my living room, on my new plush rug of orange and black
It was soft, almost as soft as it was when it bounced from here to there
But today it made a better ornament for my eyes and a soft spot for my bum
It was definitely better as a rug, which I could hug,
Because honestly the original owner was just too smug.

I ate my lunch, as my tummy rumbled so steady.
Beside me sat a pile of honey, which never really sat well in my tummy
And on the stove, a grand dinner cooked
A roasting stew, slowly cooked with some carrots
Barely big enough to make a dinner for one
But tasty and tender, as pigs taste better when young

No one had questioned why we never saw kids in the woods
They didn’t understand, that Pooh had a grievance that was misunderstood
I had the answer, oh yes I had the answer indeed
I was simply happy, because I was maniacal and still free
My laughing and glee, as I ate my honey
was simply a distraction, from hording what I need

As the sun set below the hundred acre woods
and I began my nightly ritual of collecting the people I call food
of children who thought they were smart
One part honey to preserve, one jar per heart
and into the closet they go
where no one would ever know

Oh my mortal enemy would finally realize
Christopher Robins was not always that dumb you see
But I was the Pooh Bear,
And I was always fair,
I strangled poor Chris, and to be honest it gave me some bliss
But don’t you worry, he isn’t a boy I will miss

Burp

This entry was posted on Sunday, August 27th, 2006 at 10:04 pm and is filed under Coffee - Volume Two, Humor. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.