Trapped in the Funny Pages
I have to post it. I am somewhat pleased with the result of the following work. I have to package it up and send it off to California, but since campus mail doesn't go out until Monday, It will not get there until Wednesday at the earliest.
Trapped in the Funny Pages
It all started years ago
That fateful Sunday morn.
I yawned and stretched and said a prayer
O’er the day just born.
Over a plate of breakfast food
I read the Sunday news,
Followed by the sports, the ads,
The crossword puzzle clues.
I finished with the comics page,
And as I set it back,
I felt my world turn upside down
And quickly fade to black.
Trapped in the pages
That are supposed to make you smile
Trapped in the pages
Which make Sunday worthwhile.
I’ve tried to claw my way back to
The life I knew before.
I’m sick of being on display.
Can’t take it anymore.
I opened my eyes and cleared the haze
From my woozy head.
And as I stood to look around
I was quickly filled with dread.
My whole house, my familiar life
Was in an altered condition.
I looked in the mirrors and I too was
A crazed cartoonist’s rendition.
I looked out the window of my cartoon house
And peered at a cartoon world.
To my amazement, before my eyes,
A cartoon scene unfurled.
A fat orange cat, and yellow dog
Pranced across my yard.
They walked right up to my front gate
And bit the mutt on guard.
Trapped in the pages
That are supposed to make you smile
Trapped in the pages
Which make Sunday worthwhile.
I’ve tried to claw my way back to
The life I knew before.
I’m sick of being on display.
Can’t take it anymore.
A Viking lived down on the corner
A witch across the street.
Along with other dysfunctional folk
It certainly was unique.
I tried to settle in to life,
It couldn’t be half bad.
Besides, these were the very cartoons,
I knew since I was a lad.
Monday came, and Tuesday too.
I settled into life next to Shoe.
Wednesday and Thursday also passed.
I looked to Sunday and color at last.
This routine went on for years
And even though I fought,
Everything I knew before
Was eventually forgot.
Finally a day thirty years ahead
Another Sunday morn
I yawned and stretched and looked out
O’er the day just born.
As cautious as I had become,
I was filled with dread.
Because today was the day
A safe would smash my head.
Thirty years I was a toon,
Thirty years too long.
For at the start of this twisted life
I knew I didn’t belong.
The life at first, it wasn’t bad,
Smart jokes, a clever pun.
But that audience had past,
And the good days had long been done.
What I now did was common place,
Not special anymore,
I lost the love, the spark, my gift,
Which I held dear before.
The kids these days, they liked gore.
They laughed when comics bled.
Which would explain why a safe
Was hurling toward my head.
Suddenly my mind was clear,
I recalled my previous life,
And quickly I devised a plan
To end my days of strive.
I threw together a breakfast,
Then I opened up the news.
Followed by the sports, the ads
The crossword puzzle clues.
I finished with the comics page
And as I set it back
I closed my eyes and prayed to God,
Then all I saw was black.
Trapped in the pages
That are supposed to make you smile
Trapped in the pages
Which make Sunday worthwhile.
I’ve tried to claw my way back to
The life I knew before.
I’m sick of being on display.
Can’t take it anymore.
I opened my eyes, cleared the haze
And wondered what was wrong.
I still lived in a cartoon world.
My head rung like a gong.
Beside me lay a big black safe
And suddenly I knew.
I was stuck in a comic strip
Like a fly is stuck in glue
There’d be no happy ending now.
I was stuck for sure.
The comics that I used to love
Now had no allure.
All I can do is sit and long
For those days of yore.
Since I’m never getting back.
To the life I knew before.
Trapped in the pages
That are supposed to make you smile
Trapped in the pages
Which make Sunday worthwhile.
I’ve tried to claw my way back to
The life I knew before.
I’m sick of being on display.
Can’t take it anymore.
Trapped in the Funny Pages
It all started years ago
That fateful Sunday morn.
I yawned and stretched and said a prayer
O’er the day just born.
Over a plate of breakfast food
I read the Sunday news,
Followed by the sports, the ads,
The crossword puzzle clues.
I finished with the comics page,
And as I set it back,
I felt my world turn upside down
And quickly fade to black.
Trapped in the pages
That are supposed to make you smile
Trapped in the pages
Which make Sunday worthwhile.
I’ve tried to claw my way back to
The life I knew before.
I’m sick of being on display.
Can’t take it anymore.
I opened my eyes and cleared the haze
From my woozy head.
And as I stood to look around
I was quickly filled with dread.
My whole house, my familiar life
Was in an altered condition.
I looked in the mirrors and I too was
A crazed cartoonist’s rendition.
I looked out the window of my cartoon house
And peered at a cartoon world.
To my amazement, before my eyes,
A cartoon scene unfurled.
A fat orange cat, and yellow dog
Pranced across my yard.
They walked right up to my front gate
And bit the mutt on guard.
Trapped in the pages
That are supposed to make you smile
Trapped in the pages
Which make Sunday worthwhile.
I’ve tried to claw my way back to
The life I knew before.
I’m sick of being on display.
Can’t take it anymore.
A Viking lived down on the corner
A witch across the street.
Along with other dysfunctional folk
It certainly was unique.
I tried to settle in to life,
It couldn’t be half bad.
Besides, these were the very cartoons,
I knew since I was a lad.
Monday came, and Tuesday too.
I settled into life next to Shoe.
Wednesday and Thursday also passed.
I looked to Sunday and color at last.
This routine went on for years
And even though I fought,
Everything I knew before
Was eventually forgot.
Finally a day thirty years ahead
Another Sunday morn
I yawned and stretched and looked out
O’er the day just born.
As cautious as I had become,
I was filled with dread.
Because today was the day
A safe would smash my head.
Thirty years I was a toon,
Thirty years too long.
For at the start of this twisted life
I knew I didn’t belong.
The life at first, it wasn’t bad,
Smart jokes, a clever pun.
But that audience had past,
And the good days had long been done.
What I now did was common place,
Not special anymore,
I lost the love, the spark, my gift,
Which I held dear before.
The kids these days, they liked gore.
They laughed when comics bled.
Which would explain why a safe
Was hurling toward my head.
Suddenly my mind was clear,
I recalled my previous life,
And quickly I devised a plan
To end my days of strive.
I threw together a breakfast,
Then I opened up the news.
Followed by the sports, the ads
The crossword puzzle clues.
I finished with the comics page
And as I set it back
I closed my eyes and prayed to God,
Then all I saw was black.
Trapped in the pages
That are supposed to make you smile
Trapped in the pages
Which make Sunday worthwhile.
I’ve tried to claw my way back to
The life I knew before.
I’m sick of being on display.
Can’t take it anymore.
I opened my eyes, cleared the haze
And wondered what was wrong.
I still lived in a cartoon world.
My head rung like a gong.
Beside me lay a big black safe
And suddenly I knew.
I was stuck in a comic strip
Like a fly is stuck in glue
There’d be no happy ending now.
I was stuck for sure.
The comics that I used to love
Now had no allure.
All I can do is sit and long
For those days of yore.
Since I’m never getting back.
To the life I knew before.
Trapped in the pages
That are supposed to make you smile
Trapped in the pages
Which make Sunday worthwhile.
I’ve tried to claw my way back to
The life I knew before.
I’m sick of being on display.
Can’t take it anymore.