Sam Mule and Ella Fant no longer get along.
Sam is stubborn ugly and Fant cannot forget.
One can be right only if other is dead wrong.
My friends and kin ask me not to shut the door yet.
But I lack energy to watch or pick a side.
I have no patience now that I exceed old age
Some fight on and others have gotten sick or died,
Leaving survivors with politics of bold rage.
I now trade in my disguise of faux empathy
And admit to being a sad and useless fool,
Wearing my scratchy cloak of listless apathy
While dogpaddling around that pathetic cesspool.
Sammy and Ella beg me daily for money
To buy my vote with ads of big lies and dumb hate.
I would find this so ironic and more funny
Except I live in an apathetic numb state.
Note: This Form of Poetry known as Crime Rhyme is typically found in preschool books, advertising jingles, and on restroom walls. This past February, Tom Brady and I looked foolish announcing our retirement, so I am calling my upcoming absence as just another break. My family needs me to spend more time meddling in their lives, although they do not realize it yet.