I’ve never quite understood why they call these sort of things “Blogs.” I’m sure it’s called that for a reason, but it still sounds like the sort of noise the Boogeyman would make or something. Not exactly fear inspiring, unless you’re five years old and forgot to protect yourself with the covers (which everyone knows can thwart any attack or kidnapping attempt).
Anyway, this is supposed to be a poetic blog, with poetic-sounding things, so here’s a Shakespearean sonnet as a placeholder, so it doesn’t seem like false advertising.
The Real-Life Devil:
I ran into the devil yesterday
(It’s safe to say, though, he ran into me).
No horns adorned his temples—they were gray;
He had no crooked tail I could see.
I said “Sir, don’t you want my soul?” but no,
With eyes like hell he simply sighed
And said, “You’re young, or too naive to know,
But soul collecting just will not provide.
“‘Cause I’ve got kids to feed, and bills to pay,
And now my life is hard, but so is cash:
A job pays more than dreams of yesterday,
So grow up kid—your soul will never last.”
With that, the devil left, and just as well,
But if he’s tortured here, then who runs hell?
~Michael Danger Caskey
Also, I don’t really have bear feet; I’m only half-bear. (And half-wolverine)