tuesday, isn't it?

Aparantly yesterday's poem was "emo"...

The doll lies still at the end of the bed,
Staring straight out of the window,
Her eyes bright blue and reflecting the red,
Arms splayed and legs akimbo.

"The sky is on fire" she says to herself,
"Oh crap I'm going to die"
Nearby toys arranged on a shelf
Let out a collective sigh.

"That's bollocks, you prat" says Mittens the Cat,
"Not happening, no way no how.
You're already dead you see, stuffed with pou pori,
And all I can say is meow."

Seeing the truth of this the doll went blank,
All thought draining from her.
Mittens the cat on the carpet sank,
And comfortably started to purr.

The weathermen in the know all fled,
Their bald spots starting to fry.
If at night the sky is red,
Its on fire and you're going to die