RRT is not a reretweet,
Its stand for something deep deep deep.
See the carers standing round,
Listening to that digestive sound.
They’re looking after their family so,
They can finally go go go.
They’re handling things best they can,
avoiding being a worthless man.
They’re all off waiting to pick it up,
hunt it down or find a cup.
They need a story that titillates,
So they’re lives don’t feel so obliterates.
Some write laws and paid handsomely so,
some write manuals to describe the show.
Some write letters to those far dear,
some write poems while they clean out their rear.
But by sword of Cost and the spear of Greg,
There’s not been another, wanting it so said.
If we pick ourselves up, with a word or two.
The day wont be spend in someone else’s shoe.
Don’t be fooled, don’t not understand,
There are names that scare me, that much is mad.
But we all have triggers and sounds said so,
When will we agree, there much more to and fro.
I don’t want to care, don’t want to yelp,
don’t want to take the responsible kelp.
TV’s distracting, toasters right there,
When will I learn to appreciate the air.
Lumpen D Throat