United States
41° 34' 30.6948" N, 87° 19' 35.2524" W

Wile E. on the hunt to capture Roadey
Devising devious schemes
To get you here with me

Falling victim to the traps that I’ve set up
But I’m fearless, relentless, and can never get enough
Of the chase
Foolish, because you’re consistently the clear winner of the race

And I always seem to carelessly bring upon my ultimate demise
Looking toward the sky and seeing the anvil fall slowly
Let all the anvils fall
I can only dodge them for so long.

I’m done running
I’ll leave that up to you
I’ll be Chicken Little
Let the celestial sphere fall through
Self inflicted pain is better than being tortured by the things you do.

Chasing cat and mouse
Tom and Jerry always ends the same
I do some things, you do some things
I’m still the one to blame
We both play the victim, always been an ugly game
Never really wanted to be the villain, I just wanted the name

That name you call anytime you needed somewhere there
Sylvester and Tweety love
We hate, but yet we still care
Because if we really wanted to, we would just walk away
I’d find someone else to take on this wild goose chase
You’d find someone else who could keep up with your pace
I was always the one who cried wolf, but never thought I’d actually see the day

Singing “Is you is or is you ain’t my baby”
Showering you in affection like Pepe Le Pew
You could never look past my skunk tracks
I could never imagine life without you

As I look around at all the destruction that this relationship has caused
I see my reflection through your sunglasses
And the anvil hovers over a demon with good intentions
Waiting to just

Your eyes fix themselves upon it,
the only reason it hasn’t dropped.
When we’re in our cartoon world everything seems to stop
I tell you, “Just let it go; it’s for the best”
The sky fell and the cartoons have been laid to rest

Dazed and confused awakening from this cartoon
Aren’t blunt hits to the head supposed to cause amnesia?
Why do I still remember you?
Remember you, remember us, and the characters we played so well
Now I’m Courage the Cowardly Dog trapped inside a nightmarish hell.

- Dylan Hollingsworth



Poetry is real when it was inspired by a single, specific situation, but can be fit in many other categories and be deciphered as meaningful in many different ways. Thank you for reading.

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