I have become trapped, in a machine of my own making.
My life has ground to a halt, squeaking and creaking.
Just kidding, I’m doing quite well.
This is what I tell myself, myself, yes myself.
Whatever this “poem” means to you, cherish it’s meaning like your own private garden.
A Star Wars marathon is on the cards, “Luke, I am your father”.
I’m rambling and ranting like a petulant school-boy,
I’m remembering a disapproving teacher I had, named Mr. Troy.
All the other kids made fun of his ways,
Personally, I liked him, his “vegetable” jokes were the craze of the day.
He met with a cruel end, fired by the school for hitting a child.
He walked the walk of shame, smoking Marlboro Milds.
Truly a badass, he certainly was.
Look, I’m talking like Yoda, the Star Wars influence begun, has.
Ciao. (Italian for goodbye) 😉