by Max C

Created on: July 11, 2010

Off the Gulf Coast, the earth is bleeding
a cut imposed by a fervored necessity.
Somewhere faraway, a man paces.
His peace and tranquility, shattered,
not unsimilair to the ocean floor.
If he does not formulate a response,
he will soon be out the door.
But lucky for him the sun is rising,
illuminating a hopeful glow.

She is friendly, charming, and intelligent,
the one with a unique plan.
Somewhere faraway, a man paces.
Her solution is simple.
It is cheap, environmental, and
hairy?
Make no mistake, she is not joking.

If hair is her solution,
then there is only one way to test it.
It seems as if soon, the gulf coast will have a large wig,
with black, greasy hair.
Still the problem remains,
until something is done.
Somewhere faraway, a man paces.

If I was this pacing man, I would not be able
to handle the accompanying stress.
Then again, I probably wouldn't
arrive in the same situation.
But still,
somewhere faraway, a man paces.

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