(A poem about Misha Collins. A very happy birthday, and many happy returns, Mish!!! \(:D)/)
~*~
Hey, crazy man
Sticking your tongue out
And laughing madly about
Dancing in your baby pants
As you make my brain fill up with ants
.
Hey, crazy man
With your blinding charm
Your eccentricity does no harm
Fresh face like June second's sun
As you make me giggle loudly in joy and fun
.
Hey, crazy man
Living young despite your old bones
Inspiring, caring, you are not alone
And I am not, as you made me known
As you make your thoughts drive my soul home.
YOU ARE READING
To My Wayward Sons (Supernatural Poetry)
PoetrySupernatural poems that I write when all the: -massive emotional damage -overwhelming crack -severe obsession -rare inspiration -demon possessing me is too much to handle. 50% feels, 50% crack, 100% trash. Abandon all hope, ye who enter here! ××× ...