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by TJ
Rated: ASR · Non-fiction · Comedy · #2283455
A contest entry from my last time here, based upon a true story.
First Place Winner - CJ's Twisted Traditional Poetry Contest! (Round 3)
l, Contest Entry
Access: No Restrictions



Write an Ode.

THE TWIST - An Ode usually glorifies something. I want yours to be hateful. I want an angry ode.


Oh Pinky Toe, oh Pinky Toe
why do you agonize me so?
You aggravating little thing
this ANTI-ODE to you I sing

You fill my nights with throbbing pain
Dagnabbit! There you go again!
Toe-knuckles stabbed - like shards of glass
that radiate up to my ass

Because of you I cannot sleep
you evil, heartless little creep
Pray tell, what did I do to you
to make you hurt me like you do?

In all my life I can't recall
your being any use at all
And now, all that you do for me
is fill my nights with misery

Your tender, sore arthritic joints
Why are you there? What is your point?
Except to cause me agony
I don't deserve this! WOE is me!

It's always YOU when pain's afoot
you ugly, vile pain in the butt
Why can't you just leave me alone
you putrid slab of meat and bone?

When I was young, without a care
'twas as if you weren't even there
And so we travelled, you and I
through valleys low, up mountains high

I took you dancing, climbed some rocks
always attired in comfy socks
I've dipped you in the ocean blue
and given you a blue suede shoe

We've hiked in forests deep and dark
I've took you to amusement parks
At times when you've begun to stink
I've washed you in the kitchen sink

I know I've stubbed you, here and there
but accidentally, I swear!
Your brothers got it worse than you
but they remain painless and true

Of all the toes I've ever had
you are the only one gone bad
Your fellow toes no pain impart
God bless their stubby little hearts

If only I could end the grief
Wish I could prune you, like a leaf
that grows upon a wooden tree
Except that wooden tree is me!

But that's okay, the time grows nigh
when both of us are gonna die
That day we'll go our sep'rate ways
and stay there 'til the End of Days

'Cuz when I'm at the Pearly Gates
I'll ask St. Pete to amputate
you from my foot. Then I will tell
him why you should be damned to hell

That's when you'll see the last of me
you no-good little SOB
I'll check right in to Paradise
with nine toes left - they should suffice

"The Nine-Toed Angel", they'll call me
in Heaven for Eternity
But you will pay the price, my friend
with suffering that never ends

Just like you did to me below
on Earth, you Dam-Ned Pinky Toe
Meantime, for now I've had my fun ..
My Anti-Ode to you is done

(68 lines)
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