If I had a bean that I twas to score,
A sight for eyes that are exclusively sore,
Would my demise become something I bore?
Or would it fall over as I came to soar?

Questions I ask
yet no certain path
could ever approach me
without first stopping to laugh.

Start with my pride,
take one little stride
raddle my joy
be it a toy

Dignity came
before my lost name
like moth to a flame
played me like a game

What I had lost,
too far to be tossed,
yet never been crossed,
through death did it talk.