Googly Gav

here once was a man named Googly Gav , Who had a rather curious craft. He'd cackle with glee and grin like a loon, While sticking on eyes ‘neath the light of the moon. Not on his walls or a garden gnome's hat— No, Gav had ambitions far bolder than that. He’d march to the mirror, pants ‘round his knees, And say, “Let’s give the lads some personality, please!” Two wobbly orbs with adhesive to match, Right there on his personal under-sack patch. He'd pose and he'd preen, then laugh ‘til he cried: “They’re staring again, and they’ve got googly pride!” He named them, of course — as all artists do: Lefty was "Blinky", and right one was "Stu". Together they’d wiggle, they’d bobble, they’d dance, Giving bath time or date night a whole new romance. Some say it was strange, or just slightly deranged, But Gav never cared how the world was arranged. For joy is a thing found in small, jiggly places— Even ones with wide eyes and some questionable faces.

medicatedromantic

"Tell me about yourself" I'm still finding that out still wondering doubting and dreaming like a typhoon of emotions and being creating new life within me. I am not yet born.

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