291 - I'm turning into a vegetable

I’m turning into a vegetable,
And this ain’t a good metamorphosis;
I’ve lost all thought, sat here at the table,
Brain and computer equally useless.
My toes are roots, my hair’s a leaf-green mess,
My limbs are gnarled, sprouting limbs of their own,
On which some feathered friends have found, I guess,
A new home, safe from rain’s lash and wind’s moan.
Now that it seems I’m permanently sown
Into the floor, it won’t be possible
To do much more, apart from reminisce
About her kiss; she won’t like how I’ve grown.
This stress-free existence may enable
Me to think more, and solve life’s mysteries.
Fri 22 June 2007