Hey there, he says, what's my name What's the time and what's the year Is this the land on which I started my time Or the unfamiliar sands of my past life Come to take me back, and show me my tracks. His hand strokes his messed up head His eyes roll, then focus on me His Chesher smile spreads on his pointed face He knows I'll smirk as he carries on his speech. Look, I've been a sleep for 29 years, And I still haven't woke yet It's cool man, I'm sorted out I'm Mr. Hello and I'm a good friend of yours I'm so greetable, I'm just so glad to see you I'll approach you, and you'll greet me, You'll greet me because I'm Mr. Hello. I've hidden in a plant pot, I've eaten from your head Your thoughts, they tasted so nice I came back for seconds, but all was out. My house is big, my pockets are full My teeth shine as I smile and stop Nod my head and say hello. I spoke to a man the other day His tongue so strong It could twist sold metal words. I spoke to him, he listened to every word, Casing the joint, running up schemes, Making mental notes in the back of his mind Waiting for the final word, he's still waiting. waiting for me to say hello, I'm Mr. Hello, Goodbye.Birth sign: Aquarius
You need to log in to edit this poem if it is yours.
View more poems by Phil Yarborough.