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Rated: E · Poetry · Comedy · #2269808
Always curse into your hand. If it ricochets, you can't duck in time.

Water, water, everywhere!
It's in my shoes and in my hair.
It's soaked me to my underwear
and that's no fun
I do declare.

Gee, was it only yesterday
it seemed the sun was here to stay?
The sky all stark-- no cloudy gray
to hide the sun
and block its ray.

I cursed Apollo's path, I think,
incurring wrath which in a blink
snatched me up in a second: DINK!
and plopped me in
this giant drink.

And rest assured I laid my hand
to stroking, for to find dry land.
But not a single grain of sand
could I locate
'pon which to stand.

I swam, I did. Tried every stroke
'tho choppy water made me choke.
I swam so hard I thought I'd smoke!
But still I'm here
a bobbing bloke.

So now I float and watch the sky,
just spying for that angry guy
who took offense at my outcry
and left me here
to dream of dry.

And should I see his face again
I'll kiss his tush to be his friend,
if me back to sweet land he'll send
and bring this wet
world to an end.

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