Chaos - Disorder abounds and must be confronted

Poetry

In a time of great despair, when no one seems to even care, he leaned and slapped a hungry bear, now all that's left is his hair.

That hair gets shipped to Maine, where it feels the postman's bane, when he sat and played a game, it really stunk, for no one came.

The postman felt quite sad, worst time he ever had, it almost made him mad, but then he called his dad.

His dad suggested ovaltine, the postman asked, "What do you mean?" father beamed and ate a bean, and said, "One day you will be king."

The postman just about flipped out, he felt not unlike a trout, with a shudder and a little shout, he asked, "What is this about?"

The man, confused, put down the phone, and let the man feel all alone, t'was something he did not condone, and then his eyes began to foam.

In much agony and dispair, he once again chose to share, to all the world, if they dare, they could see the postman's layer.

They came by, but he did not, because a fact that he forgot, he left the savage bear he brought, at his home, right on his cot.

That street, today, is very quiet, Ne'r a concert nor a riot, If bland hair, feel free to dye it, You could have postman's, if you buy it.

Decent Christian 2002-11-17 03:25 293

Beautiful!!!