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Anvils


Wile E. on the hunt to capture Roadey Devising devious schemes To get you here with me Backfiring Falling victim to the traps that I’ve set up But I’m fearless, relentless, and can never get enough Of the chase Foolish, because you’re consistently the clear winner of the race And I always seem to carelessly bring upon my ultimate demise Looking toward the sky and seeing the anvil fall slowly Let all the anvils fall Fall Fall I can only dodge them for so long. I’m done running I’ll leave that up to you I’ll be Chicken Little Let the celestial sphere fall through Self inflicted pain is better than being tortured by the things you do. Chasing cat and mouse Tom and Jerry always ends the same I do some things, you do some things I’m still the one to blame We both play the victim, always been an ugly game Never really wanted to be the villain, I just wanted the name That name you call anytime you needed somewhere there Sylvester and Tweety love We hate, but yet we still care Because if we really wanted to, we would just walk away I’d find someone else to take on this wild goose chase You’d find someone else who could keep up with your pace I was always the one who cried wolf, but never thought I’d actually see the day Singing “Is you is or is you ain’t my baby” Showering you in affection like Pepe Le Pew You could never look past my skunk tracks I could never imagine life without you As I look around at all the destruction that this relationship has caused I see my reflection through your sunglasses And the anvil hovers over a demon with good intentions Waiting to just Fall Fall Fall Your eyes fix themselves upon it, the only reason it hasn’t dropped. When we’re in our cartoon world everything seems to stop I tell you, “Just let it go; it’s for the best” The sky fell and the cartoons have been laid to rest Dazed and confused awakening from this cartoon Aren’t blunt hits to the head supposed to cause amnesia? Why do I still remember you? Remember you, remember us, and the characters we played so well Now I’m Courage the Cowardly Dog trapped inside a nightmarish hell. - Dylan Hollingsworth
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Comments (1)

dylan.h013
Poetry is real when it was inspired by a single, specific situation, but can be fit in many other categories and be deciphered as meaningful in many different ways. Thank you for reading.

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