Patrick was extremely ill,
There was something he'd not been told;
Bed ridden for the past three months,
And still not very old.

'Am i dreaming?' he thought,
What's that gorgeous smell?
His wife was obviously baking,
'That's cakes, I can always tell'.

He fell, plop , out of bed,
Crawled painfully to the top-most stair;
Each one taken on his bottom,
For a cake he didn't care.

At last he was on level ground,
The pain was quite intense;
But a freshly cooked favourite,
Was sure to recompense.

He eventually reached the kitchen,
Albeit in dire straits;
His hand reached up to the table edge,
To the many cakes on plates.

A spatula struck his knuckles,
'What the hell, for goodness sake';
Get you thieving hands off my cakes,
I've baked them for your wake."

-Laykorn

lol nawa oh

The closer though

llaykorn:
Patrick was extremely ill,
There was something he'd not been told;
Bed ridden for the past three months,
And still not very old.

'Am i dreaming?' he thought,
What's that gorgeous smell?
His wife was obviously baking,
'That's cakes, I can always tell'.

He fell, plop , out of bed,
Crawled painfully to the top-most stair;
Each one taken on his bottom,
For a cake he didn't care.

At last he was on level ground,
The pain was quite intense;
But a freshly cooked favourite,
Was sure to recompense.

He eventually reached the kitchen,
Albeit in dire straits;
His hand reached up to the table edge,
To the many cakes on plates.

A spatula struck his knuckles,
'What the hell, for goodness sake';
Get you thieving hands off my cakes,
I've baked them for your wake."

-Laykorn

Beautiful.

JigsawKillah:
The closer though

Wetin do the closer?

A thoughtful piece
One that spur a notion
"In the after life
Will our senses exist?"

For if true,
Patrick should pls have some
Hades may have none for him