A mouse in my head? and the mouse said "hello jack", that's what he said. As he lay, half breathing, half dead. The mouse in my head. That's what he said, he read Mozart grill Handel, as he lay drinking red blood from a cup. He did sup, with his cup, in his bed, That dead mouse. Graten tendon cheese, The Big Cheese:Brie Turfel. Once only, the gorgonzola boy. The mouseyhaired waiter, who sold me cheddar with bread in my house, oh the mouse. He keeps running in a neverending wheel. The cage of my hypothalumus keeps turning, turning turning, burning gnawing. Sore and touchy, more sodium, more milk, more churning stomachs that fill with dreaded bread. The mouse in my head said.
lala, googoo, nuts, bonkers, crazy, loony, skitz, gaga,........can't think of anymore words for, like, mental terms. oh dear. the mouse was not harmed in the making of this poem.
+D wo0o0o lozikins - that's cool! it seems hyper and playful =) and, although i get what's going on... why? +P
Umm not sure what this was...bizarrely, it made me feel really hungry for cheese! Oh, and I'm happy the mouse remains unhurt by this poem
