PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I wish I were the thumb

Of the five finger group

Sitting helpless under the thumb

I'd call the shots

I'd call the game

On every rain date

I can make up my face

But I can't make up my mind

I broke my mirror into dust

So it will match my face

I need to learn a thing or two

So all that is left is but a thing or two

My eyes grow bigger

Than my tummy buried underground

Too hot to wield to the iron claw

That sat in the fier to turn orange hot

Now it sits in the mud to coll itself off

I just stick out like a thumb in the air

To call upon the opportunities

So I can hitch a ride and cheat

For life is but a race

Survival of forgetful

Survival of the fittest, ripest plumb of them all

Stronger than the other purple velvet fruit

That drip down from the tree

And fall down on your knee

I just stick out like a plumb

The first born shall always lose

And always catch every virus in the air

First born always die first, too

For last shall be first

For first shall be last

Now the thumbs drip down

From everybody's hands

To damn me right down to hell

Elevator included