BRAIN ROT REALITY

I'm not sure what are dreams or, not?

Are they what I remember or, what I forgot?

My reality is not all that clear,

I don't hold my thoughts very dear,

For I think half my brain has a rot.

GRIMM'S FAIRY TALES OF TIRES

I rue the day I knocked over that bucket of nails,

Now, when I drive my car each tire impales,

The nails spilled in my garage,

But, down my driveway some must still lodge,

Four flat tires everyday are like Grimm's Fairy Tales. 

52020