"Many people hear voices when no one is there. Some of them are called mad and are shut up in rooms where they stare at the walls all day. Others are called writers and they do pretty much do the same thing." -Meg Chittenden

Wednesday, June 23, 2010

Who Moved My Cheese?

Who is it that moved my cheese?
Alas, for it's gone away.
I cannot find it with ease.

Will you help me find it, please?
For I am filled with dismay,
Who is it that moved my cheese?

Its scent is still on the breeze,
I wish it with no delay,
I cannot find it with ease.

My breath is starting to wheeze,
I am beginning to sway,
Who is it that moved my cheese?

This loss feels like a disease,
My heart, it starts to decay,
I cannot find it with ease.

I'm feeling weak in my knees,
More than I'll ever convey.
Who is it that moved my cheese?
I cannot find it with ease.

PS. Go Saints and Drew Brees!!!

(This poem was written during the Super Bowl 2010)

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