Motley
Come now! I speak only in jest,
I am a fine fool, bred for courtliness
Flinging knives at my head
And catching them in my teeth.
It’s why I can speak daggers,
And if roused; my god I can draw
A broadsword from my throat!
I can swallow a sword like the best of them
No that’s not a euphemism
I don’t bend both ways -
Of my clownish tricks flexibility is lacking;
though I can do the splits?
At least in emotion, I can giggle and sob
At the flick of a switch
No that’s not a euphemism
What am I? A laughing stock?
Well it made me laugh at least.
Everything will turn out for the best!
Now that is a joke! No I jest,
My words aren’t barbed
they’re just a tad rusty
And prone to cause infection
If you catch me on a bad day I’m rabid
So I think you’d best give me a good polish
Though we’re out of wax and my motley rags
Can’t take any more oily tears
I’m fractured enough without being fracked
Did that get a chuckle? I’m sure I saw a faint smile.
Perhaps it was just gas
You wouldn’t catch me doing that
I jest! You wouldn’t catch me in any form!
My wit will outrun you all
It certainly beats my sense
Though I think that dropped dead a while back
It’s all smoke and mirrors,
The one that I can’t see the second
Anyway, I digress
I was to apologise, yes?
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