Random Thought Thread

Here's a little spoof on a poem that I wrote and shared on the forums just about nine years ago.

Former forum member, Rick (rbmcmjr), R.I.P. , was a fan of it and I saved it thinking I'd trot it out in his honor some day...well 'tis the season.

(With apologies to (gangsta) Robert Frost...goes without saying...)

Stopping By 'Hoods On A Snowy Evening

Whose 'hoods these are I think I know.
His crib is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his 'hoods fill up with blow.

My lowered ride must think it queer
To stop without a tenement near
Between the 'hood and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He brings his ride's horn awake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of 5-0 searching fo' Peruvian flake.

The 'hood is scary, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And decks to sell before I sleep,
And decks to sell before I sleep.


Hope you enjoyed reading it again, Rick...(gone but not forgotten)
 
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