Small poem.
"Tiny Blast".
Just a small song with a dash of spite.
A tiny thistle below the belt. That's it,
you know, the twinge inside the fabulous cerulean.
Don't back away.
Turtle into it with your little force.
The steady one wins this enterprise.
This bingo shouter.
This bridge of sighs.
And now that you're here be brave, mon dieu.
Be everyway alive.