An ode to unnamed.
Oh, sweet friend, who winds me up,
your name I shall not mention much,
A team of monkeys could type more sense,
not Shakespeare, but a sound defence.
As duty calls you state your case,
with no remorse you lose your face,
in the dark of my long day,
I know that you'll come out to play.
Perhaps I have misjudged you friend,
maybe it is I that tends,
to rush into an unplanned thought,
as though to think, I was never taught.
I think I struggle to understand,
How it is your words are planned,
As though I'm facing a mystery spinner,
Whilst watching through a concave mirror.
Hopefully we will not be,
destined to eternity,
one, as Sir Ian, or Beefy to me,
the other, you know, as Chapelli.
Bored....
. My life style is what caused the damn disease. I am banker so have to sit from 9 to 6 at a chair. I come home watch TV and sleep. I request all my friends here to please ensure they go for walk and exercise.
