At the End of the Rainbow

Some day,

We get to an age,

An age where every year

There are two candles on your cake

No matter what

An age where one stops counting

And realizes we all share the same epoch

But for those with a little extra sugar in our milk,

A pot of gold awaits

And how does one acquire?

If I knew, I wouldn’t be here

Banging on this keyboard

Like a diseased orangutan

But there are theories passed down

Like hereditary illnesses

My secret,

I keep a leprechaun in a cage

Under my desk

I feed him cooked oysters and raw w****s

I torture him with callow sentiments

and honeyed promises of brotherhood

Until he screams vile obscenities

In his little green overalls

Hopefully one day

He’ll just tell me where to find it,

The gold

But sometimes

He gives me a decent line or two

Like right now

Reviews

[Alex Kenzie]

This is so very good, very nicely written

[Courtney Hough]

Haha i love this, The coloring, the twist to satire it was all good. And brought a smile to my face :)

[Brian F. Lockard]

Haha thanks for the ego boost

-Brian

[Coyote Poetry]

Any help is good help. Leprechaun are usually pretty wordy. Nice ending to the entertaining poem.
Coyote