O’l Mate Spikey.
Wind blowing through the dusty plains,
Out comes O’l Mate Spikey.
Looking around with his baby eyes,
Can’t find mother.. or papa.
Waiting, waiting some more,
Loss breaking his heart,
Can’t even remember what happiness can be,
As he looks hoping for euphoria.
Couldn’t ever fix a hole like that,
When your power is so small.
As time keeps running,
so does o’l Mate Spikey.
Growing, looking, never stopping.
Less spikes harder to walk,
But persistence is with him.
When he looks there are reminders of his early life,
Until we sleep.
Once he stops he can’t start again.
Lifted up to the heavens.
Running up the stairway,
He finally finds the life he ever wanted.
All he needs now is peace for the world,
Hoping so much for us to get along.
Why can’t we?
By Joey (inspired by a true story).