darkSpyro

So I wrote the weirdest poem, its total nonsense, so this seems like a fitting place for it.

My head is full of weasels, and the cheese puffs got out
A kind of world where dollars turn to sense,
And muffins turn to ash
I wish upon a bright green star
A view across the world so far
I find a table sitting in the way
But alas sadly it will not stay
A mind so bright as clear as day
But it’s nothing more than piles of hay
My head is an oyster and the relish got out
A kind of world where kindness turns to betrayal,
And treachery leads to doom
The on a wall watching near and far
To protect the true south star
Killed the snow that was their only hope
Without it the frost marches down the slope
With no method for them to cope
The end is near so them must mope
My head is a maggot and the books got out
A kind of world where death leads to mercy
And grief leads to darkness
They walk and swim beneath the star
To survive they must travel far
Every day could be the end
With no way to mend
No way to send
And no time to lend
My head is a skull and the thoughts got out,
A kind of world where hope leads to success
And success leads to fulfillment

Some of these lines are really nice.

This is more deep than I tough it would be.