The Mind of Poetry

Chum

Chummy chum chum,
I hear the beat of the drum.
The lyrics are cold,
Pounding so damn old.
Words of entitlement so numb.

Putty putt putty,
Rendering so awkwardly nutty.
Melodies so frigid,
Edges so rigid.
Noises so distantly studied.

Varoom va voom,
Bouncing goes the room.
Dwelling awhile,
Heeding a smile,
Discovering angelic perfume.

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Chum

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