I like to taste my food, but get royally screwed,
Nothing about reality is so accommodatingly simple.
But when I flail miserably in the air, it's only fair,
I get a miss whose smile has a dimple.
Yes alas, I have many tongues,
And I'm pretty sure you want to ask "why".
To tell you I am this way, a dismay
May from your soul freely fly.
Well be dismayed, I care very little,
I'm a dirty little pest. A PEST you hear.
I live a reclusive life in a corner dump,
Away from all the sneer.
I live in my mind and talk with echoes,
As if extra tongues aren't a pain.
I'm more afraid of my own thoughts,
Want an empty brain in the rain.
Despicable my shadow, it grows,
I hide from point sources of light,
I hate the giant with gigantic limbs,
That looks like me when it's bright.
