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A rawness,
a rasp,
crept from
his throat,
using his voice
when he first awoke.
A pain
deep within
was all
which he felt
in spite
of those,
who watched
from place
quite safe.
No matter
the time,
no matter
from where,
if you knew
or weren't
even there.
Say not
to me,
one word
or two
about this
rambling bit
of adieu.

Is it domino
or domani.
A time to go,
a time to flee?

If I mangle
your mango,
is it mangocide?
Stupid the words,
still I tried
to make this verse
become justified.

There is some light,
but there is no sound.
To hear the music,
of life's sweet abound.
Go where you must,
get out of town.
Enjoy yourself now,
while there is time.
Be happy in life
and toe the line.

The girl with chocolate in her hair.
Chocolate is good to eat in bed,
except when you fall asleep
and awake with a chocolate head.

Mental floss, a string of words,
running through my head.
No matter, the word choice,
it will run through this porous,
brain as if salt were present.
I cannot control the blandness
of the words written,
and I watch them swirl
into the old mind of an uncontrollable
muse. Sorry to say but the mind is mine.

See more of Randall Munroe's work at xkcd.com - This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 2.5 License,

It's a knotty mess
of rope or line.
Don't call it naughty
or a large twine
for it's a rope.
not a fishing line.

A piece of string,
a length of twine,
a skank of thread,
a woven line.
A stitch or two
a time to bind,
a soul, yours
to
a soul mine.

I feel nervous,
like I did at my first dance,
where a shy country boy,
dreamed of a romance.
A romance, oh so rosy,
there was never a chance,
to do anything other
than to dance every dance.

Where are the words,
which run to be free,
as they do their best
to escape and elude me.
I will let my mind go,
perhaps they will return,
for at the moment
of my minds lividity.

I'll show you the way,
for it is up to we,
and to you I say,
Yes, Yes, Oui, Oui.