by KEITH
Purple atmosphere with a green swirl.
It makes you hurl as the room turns.
Tick-tock, you broke my clock.
Now your hog gets chopped in my shop.
Random items floating as time it stuck.
The crow barks but the crow yells “what?”
He form waves like jelly and soft like slush.
The wife falls down and turns to dust.
May the ground eat the roadkill so the blood will not dry.
The wheat is sifted while the wind cries “why?”
Yet, a carrot is found in a basement
Saying…goodbye.
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