Carry On
Carry On is a free-form (attempt at poetry).
Please read to the end.
Preferably in an accent like the
illustration above.
Well I don’t know if I can carry on
Carry on, carry on, carry on…
This hardship just won’t let me alone
It is the hardship that carries on
Carries on, carries on.
It is the hardship that carries on,
And it leaves me raw to the bone.
Sometimes I laugh in his face
And spit in his eye,
And when he cringes I laugh
Up a storm and enjoy
His discomfort as I know
He thrives on mine.
Oh I try very hard not to feel down,
And then I try again some more,
But it feels more like I tore
A piece of my soul away.
Oh hardship, hardship, hardship,
You just chip away
At my very heart and soul.
Why can’t you just go away?
Well sometimes when I cry
Cause it hurts too much,
Tears turn to laughter
Cause what else is there to do?
Sometimes I just want to shed
This troubled mortal coil.
Everything I do you foil.
Haven’t I now bled
Enough to feed your thirst?
Why can’t you first
Go back to your evil bed?
And let me just carry on.
I can’t stand your carry on
Carry on, carry on, carry on.
So said the Prior to the flee.
—
Life is a flea circus!
Sometimes the world gets you down, and sometimes, you have to fight back.
Don’t forget to smile today.
— —
CREDIT: Clip Art. No other source detected.
