Tattoos in Mayberry

50,635 poems read

she thinks I am neat
petite, sugar sweet
it's fait accompli
she's my toddler.
She gets what she wants
or she'll whine about what
I haven't done for her lately.
I've assured her time and again
she's what I adore
Into my eyes she stares deeply and
I get crazed even more..
I'm done for,
I'm  hooked
on her baby blues.
She's my front  
my back page
and breaking news.
She's a liar
a terror and
a four alarm fire.
Her billowing smoke
takes me higher and higher.
She there to remind  me 
best hedge my bets
Since,I have discovered
she's been shredding my nets.
She's my burden
my bane.
She's my best friend forever
damn, she's
 criminally insane.

But, my toddler, you see
stinks baby sweet.
I love watching her paint
her tiny fingers and feet.
She's deep in my head
This petulent woman/child
who butters my bread.
While spinning my world upside down.
and around
she crawls off with yours,
mine and what's left of the towns.
 I'm cross addicted to her tenderest lies.
this saucy, most savory
half baked pie.
I can't help but adore
what my mother and father
would surely abhor.
She's  got me hooked guts deep 
It's a horror, unreal.
When her terrible twos
fall asleep at my wheel.
She's irresistible
when acting demure.
It keeps me from looking
too hard for the cure.
She's one of a kind
the last thing in the Universe
I expected to find.
 It's as if I've been falling into
a bottomless cravasse
when making chivalrous errors 
upsetting this lass
My advice to you is.
don't do as I do,
or you too
will be screwed,
and fighting for air
that won't come too soon
in her palace of doom
on the burnt chocolate side
of a toddler's moon.

All Rights Reserved As Is By Author

Buddy Bee Anthony 

Comment On This Poem --- Vote for this poem