mr z had things to say
and he posted them every day
then one day to him it occurred
that all his passionate words
in the cloud were just floating away
he suddenly got to his feet
and went outside in the street
the world was deserted and bare
only he was taking the air
he fell to the ground in despair
he resolved to mend his ways
and care not for censure or praise
to become a wandering minstrel or monk
or a sidewalk-sitting drunk
or just lay there forever in a daze
at length hunger attacked his frame
and to his eternal shame
he went inside for a bite
the old thoughts returned so bright
and he got back into the game
mr z has things to say
and he posts them every day
with his trusty laptop and phone
and pizza delivered to his home
he wouldn’t have it any other way
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