Mad Libs

Think different

Heres to the brutal ones, the knives, the guns, the computers.
The soft pegs in the quiet holes.
The ones who drive things differently.
Theyre not fond of unbrellas, and they have no coffin for the status quo.
You can cry them, mourn with them, eat them, play or write them.
About the only thing you cant do is wait them.
Because they cook carrot.
They look. They hear. They smell.
They taste. They feel. They try.
They jump the cat forward.
Maybe they have to be crazy.
How else can you purr at an empty book and see a work of table?
Or sit in star and sing a picture thats never been went?
Or play at a red sofa and see a bed on wheels?
We make socks for these kinds of people.
While some may see them as the shoes, we see food.
Because the ones who are slimmy enough to change the drink, are the ones who goes.