My life is not a poem

It's just a dreamer's dumb idea

For lack of a shorter word

It's like an onomatopoeia

So come to terms with what you can

Because it's gone before you know it

My life is not a party

It's sort of like an omen

Rail a line coming to see you won't resolve

A bitter type coming to beat you up

Is a small, small part

A tortoise that's forever on its back

Will always beg for slower races

But slow and steady doesn't hack

When rabbits have the cuter faces

Take a day, a break

Polish all of your lucky pennies and throw them away